All that is left
by Kubi-Beutlin
Summary: NATURALLY UNFOLDING   slowly increasing WINCEST in CANON - story starts at 2x09 Croatoan and follows the boys throughout Season 2 Supernatural - missing scenes, tags, brotherly fluff, in-between-episodes scenes, some AU, but mainly true to CANON
1. 1  Desperate Man

**All that is left**

Warnings: Spoilers for Croatoan. MILD Wincest. VERY mild.

Author's Note: omg omg omg my very first Fanfiction EVER! So excited. I don't know where it came from, but this bunny just didn't want to stay in it's cage.

**BANNER now online on my profile page!**

So this story hits off in the episode Croatoan of Supernatural Season 2. It starts with a piece of dialogue from the show but takes another turn then the original plot.

By the way: It's at some point important that you haven't forgotten everything about the episode the scenes take place in. I'll leave out parts, that would happen in this story just the same as in the episode. So yeah. I for example watch the episode up to the point where my scene starts before I get into writing it ^^

Disclaimer: The boys and everything involving them belongs (sadly...*snif* )to the godlike Kripke... or Chuck...well you get the drift.

Playlist: Modern Myth - 30 Seconds to Mars

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 1: Desperate Man**

"Dean, don't do this. Just get the hell out of here."

Sam's eyes were pleading, begging his brother to be sensible. But Dean wouldn't have it. His eyes wandered through the room, looking anywhere but Sam. His little brother, the one person he really relied on. He already had lost his father. Invincible. That was the one word, that had always crossed his mind, when he thought about his Dad. As solid as a rock, not giving in inch, no matter how hard you pushed.

Gone.

Sam and him, that was all that was left of the Winchesters. How could he turn his back on that? How could he just walk out and never look back?

He had trusted his father, implicit and without doubt. But the trust that he had in his brother was a whole other story. They questioned each others actions, of course. God knew how often he had to bite his tongue not to snap at the boy, but no matter what happened, when push shoves they had each others backs. More than that, they gave each other strength. With his father, it had always been a one way street. John went, Dean followed. Sam and him were equals. Ying and Yang, no matter how cheesy that sounded. When one of them couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel, the other one would take the lead and watch out for stumbling blocks along the way.

"Give me my gun, and leave." Sams voice was full of Conviction, but he couldn't quite hide the small tremor that ran through him. When Dean finally looked at him he could see the fear in his bleary eyes. It was hard not to break his laugh-in-the-face-of-death mask right then, but he had to stay strong. For Sam.

"For the last time, Sam. No."

As he turned away to compose himself Sam snapped, punching his plastered arm on the table. Hard.

"This is the dumbest thing you've ever done."  
Sam was at the brink of crying now, torn between relief, to have his brother by is side and the need to get him somewhere safe. Which in this case was as far away from him as possible.

"I don't know about that. Remember that waitress in Tampa?"

He could see right through Deans act, as usual. The guy that through all this time always had come running when he had screwed up again. He had lost count of how many times Dean had sacrificed everything to save him, had put himself second just to be there for his little brother. But not this time. He wouldn't let him. He just couldn't.

"Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you." - Pleading.

"No?"

"No, you can keep going." - Craving.

"Who says I want to?"

Everything froze. Sam could see that Dean was dead set. Literally. His mind started wheeling at his brothers words, while the room had turned so quiet, you could hear a pin drop.

"What?"

Resignation was evident in Deans eyes and suddenly he looked ten years older.  
"I'm tired, Sam. I'm tired of this job, this life . . . this weight on my shoulders, man. I'm tired of it."

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing. Dean Winchester, the guy that thought decapitation of vampires should become an official sport was tired of this life? The one, who's eyes starting glowing at the thought of a werewolf hunt? When had he missed the last ten chapters of his brothers life? Sure, their fathers death was more than any of them could shoulder, but when had his brothers mindset switched from 'give-em-hell' to 'I couldn't care less'? How did he miss that? But it didn't matter. He had to get Dean out of here. As soon as possible. The clock was ticking and they already had wasted far too much time.

"So what, so you're just going to give up? You're just gonna lay down and die? Look, Dean, I know this stuff with Dad has..."  
"You're wrong." Dean butted in.

What?

"It's not about Dad. I mean, part of it is, sure, but..."

Now Sam was completely lost.

"Then what is it about?"

Dean tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He could feel his facade crumbling. Fast.

"Why do you think I got you from Stanford, Sam?"

Confusion was written all over his little brothers face. He himself didn't really know where he was going with this. All he knew was, that he couldn't...he just couldn't imagine to keep on fighting without Sammy. What was the point? After he was gone, there was nothing left for him here.

"Why do think I put up with your crap 24/7, run after you when you are set on running the other direction?"

He unconsciously had inched closer towards the examining table Sam was sitting on and looked down at him. His forehead was all scrunched up, as it always was when he tried to figure something out really hard. Some things never change. Especially with his snot nosed, pig headed brother. How could someone so warm and empathizing turn into something evil. How?

"Dean...I..." Sam was at an utter loss for words. A real curiosity.

He stepped closer and brushed the hair out of Sam's eyes. Something he had never done before, never let himself do, no matter how annoyingly they tangled in his brothers face.

"You are all I got left here. Mom, Dad...they are all gone. What am i supposed to do when you..." He nearly choked on the last word.

Suddenly Sam's hand came up and stroked something wet out of his face. When had he started crying? Only then he noticed that his hand was still in Sam's hair, frozen just above his left ear. He didn't know why he was doing it, and honestly couldn't seem to care, but before any of them knew it, his lips were pressed against Sam's, a desperate attempt to keep his brother here with him, to somehow save him from the virus within him that soon would burn all of his humanity and with it everything that was Sam. His Sammy.

Sam had turned rigid, before he hastily pulled back, pushing Dean back by the shoulders. Gawping at him, totally taken aback by what just happened.

"Wha..." It came out only as a whisper.

Dean stared back just as shocked before he hastily straightened up, his face blank.

"I...I'm sorry...I..."

Before he could say another word, there was a knock on the door.  
They both spun around to see Dr. Lee waving from outside the room. Dean cleared his throat as he walked over to her and unlocked the door.

"You better come see this."

The brothers exchanged one last loaded look, before they quietly followed her outside.

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tbc?

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Do you want more or did you just realize that you will never ever get the last few minutes of your life back?


	2. 2  Bite my tongue

Warnings: Spoilers for Croatoan. MILD Wincest. VERY mild.

Author's Note: Here is the next one. I hope it doesn't drag too much, but I felt tat this chapter was needed to emphasis the tensin between the two.

Disclaimer: The boys and everything involving them belongs (sadly...*snif* )to the godlike Kripke... or Chuck...well you get the drift.

Playlist: 100 suns - 30 Seconds to Mars

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 2: Bite my tongue  
**

Not even Led Zeppelin could drown out the uncomfortable silence that had settled over them as soon as they were in the car. What was there to say anyway? 'Hey, Sam! You are immune to a freakish demon virus! Let's go celebrate! Oh by the way, sorry I went all Blue Lagoon on you, must have been the stress.'

His fingers where drumming nervously on the steering wheel, completely out of beat. Dean still couldn't believe he had kissed his own brother. It had only been a peck, but who was he kidding? Peck or a full on kiss, the result would have been the same. Standing naked in a room full of people couldn't feel any more awkward than this drive. Where was that stupid motel anyway? He never had thought about his brother in a romantic way, and he sure as hell wasn't planning on changing that. Looking back it all seemed like a dream. A very, VERY weird dream, not to say nightmare, but still. Of course he was endlessly relieved that they both made it out of there alive, but... man, when he thought things couldn't get any more screwed up than they already had been. Awesome...

Sam had avoided to look at his brother the entire time. He was so damned confused about everything that had happened today. Had it really been only one day? Must be Thursday. His immunity to the virus alone would have been enough to keep him up for countless nights, but now he also had no idea how to approach his own brother. Maybe he had just imagined it all, some weird hallucinations, triggered by the infection. Oh right, he was immune. How could he forget. Awesome...

Dean checked them into a motel a few hours later while Sam silently grabbed their duffels from the Impala. Should he say something to Dean or just drop the topic and never mention it again? After all, it had been an extreme situation. His brothers emotions had just run wild with him at the thought of loosing Sam. Not that he could really blame him for that. He had been convinced that he was gonna die, too. Still he couldn't suppress the tension crawling up his spine as he saw his brother approaching silhouette in the dark.

"We got room 209." He said as he went to grab his duffel from the younger one. Reaching for the strap his fingers accidentally brushed Sam's hand and both went rigid for a second until Dean hastily jerked the bag towards him. He spun around and walked towards the room without another look.

Ok, so maybe dodging the topic was out, Sam thought. The Winchesters never had been known to be very affectioned in a physical way, but this was just ridicules.

'Tomorrow.' He thought to himself. It had been an exhausting day and both of them needed their sleep. Burying his good hand in his jacket pocked he shuffled after Dean.

* * *

None of them had gotten nearly enough sleep. Dean had drowned about half a bottle of the scotch they normally used to disinfect wounds, until he passed out on the bed while Sam had buried himself over his laptop, scouring the Internet for more information about the Croatoan lore. To no avail, as expected.  
Naturally the next morning was filled with loads of take away caffeine and a grumpy, hung-over Dean that seemed more like a zomby than anything else.  
At least both of them were way to tired to put any real effort into avoiding each other. Sam nearly could have convinced himself none of it ever happened, if he ignored the one meter safety distance Dean maintained at all times. Sighing he finished packing up his stuff to follow his brother back to the car. This was gonna be a long drive.

"Where are we going anyway?" Sam asked about half an hour later.  
Dean was slightly startled by hearing his brothers voice cutting through the silence that once again had settled over them. He had refrained from turning on the music, since the pounding in his head was loud enough to fill a stadium. Glancing over through is sunglasses he answered: "You'll see." slightly grinning at the frown on his brothers face.

The Impala came to a halt at a river just outside of one of the towns they just had past through. Sam gave Dean a questioning look as his brother gave him one of his smirks. He nearly would have made a snarky remark at Deans expense for bringing him to an obvious make-out spot before the latest events came rushing back to him and he quickly bit his tongue. Things had been almost back to normal for the last hour and Dean seemed much more relaxed. No need to ruin that by being a prick.

"Get your ass out here, Sasquath" Dean joked as he put his sunglasses into the car and grabbed two beer out of the cooler.

"Really?" Sam asked, giving the bottles an unbelieving look.

"What? Best way to treat a hangover."

"I thought a greasy pork sandwich served in a dirty ashtray was the best way to treat that."

"You still got a lot to learn, kiddo" he grinned, passing a bottle over to Sam who had settled onto the wooden fence near the shore, facing away from the river. It felt good to get back to their easy banter.

The following silence was nearly comfortable, but Dean could see from Sam's posture that the kids mind was already working on full blast again. With a sigh he leaned on the fence and waited for the angst to start.

"So, last night."

'There we go...'

He couldn't help the lump that was forming in his throat. He still hadn't gotten any bit closer to figuring out why he had kissed Sam, half a bottle of Scotch completely wasted.

"You wanna tell me what the hell you were talking about?"

Ok, he hadn't seen this one coming.

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? You said you were tired of the job, and that it wasn't just because of dad."

Crap. He had forgotten all about that.

With all his heart he wished that Sam had too.

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tbc


	3. 3 Breathe

Warnings: Spoilers for Croatoan and Hunted. MILD Wincest. VERY mild.

Author's Note: I'm on a run guys ^^ the words just keep flowing. This story was actually supposed to be a one shot, bet well...you know plotbunnies. Thought I should give you some brotherly angst and fluff. enjoy!

Disclaimer: The boys and everything involving them belongs (sadly...*snif* ) to the godlike Kripke... or Chuck...well you get the drift.

Playlist: none

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 3: Breathe  
**

The talk had been a disaster...and even that was still an understatement.  
Dean had tried to ease the actual meaning of his words somehow but failed miserably, judging by Sam's reaction. They ended up screaming at each other, resulting in Sam throwing his half full beer bottle against a nearby tree in frustration.

That however wasn't the worst part of it, not by far. He had seen it in his brothers eyes, as his fathers words left his lips.

Betrayal. Pain. Fear.

He had tried to reach out to him, begged him to lay low for a while until they had their heads back in the game, but Sam's reluctance to agree spoke volumes.

He was right to be pissed at him. Nevertheless Dean didn't exactly live the apple-pie life here either.

Desperately he had tried to keep this burden from his brother's shoulders, that visibly slumped more day by day with grief and guilt. He hadn't breathed a word of it, not once, no matter how lost he felt these days in the growing chaos that was his life. Damned virus.

At least the kiss wasn't going to be a topic anytime soon, he thought cynical.

Sam stomped off towards the car, after his bottle had went flying. He couldn't breathe.

The world seemed to be crashing down on him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.

On top of it all Dean's pained expression was haunting him, no matter where he looked. Every word he had thrown back in his face had hit it's mark, Bull's eye. Downside of knowing someone for your entire life - you knew exactly where to aim.

His brother had only tried to protect him, he knew that, but he didn't need protection. He needed answers. He needed to know when he had lost control of his own fate and what the hell was happening to him. Death seemed to follow his very step, the vision, the immunity and now this. And if Dean wasn't willing to take actions, he sure as hell wasn't going to sit around and wait for the demon to set his 'plan' into motion.

Pulling in a ragged breath he sagged against the car, but his chest still felt as if someone had fastened a screw clamp around it. His head started spinning, lack of sleep and the last events taking their toll and before he knew what hit him he found himself hunched over, one hand grabbing onto the door handle of the Impala, retching and gasping for air.

It only took a second before he felt a steady hand on his back and another one pushing against his chest so he wouldn't tumble over completely.

"Hey, hey I gotcha. Sam, you with me? Hey!"

Sam was nearly choking now, but still no air seemed to fill his lungs.

"Crap!" Dean was moving as soon as he had noticed the change in Sam's posture. One second to the next his brothers body had gone from tense to slack and he dropped like a stone.

Panic attack.

He was torn between staying with Sam and getting a paper bag to stop him from hyperventilating.  
Trying to lean him against the Impala was hopeless, since he couldn't hold himself up, so he lowered him carefully to the ground.

"Back in a sec."

He threw open the other car door and nearly ripped off the glove box. Quickly discarding the old sandwich out of the paperback he was back at his brother's side in no time.

"Breathe damnit! Come on Sammy, breathe!"

Painful seconds past until he could feel the younger one getting back on track. Carefully he pulled his head back to take a good look at him and was greeted with watery, bloodshot eyes and a face that even would make a ghost look tanned.

"You scared the crap out of me, man! You with me?"

A weak nod was all he got in response. Only now he noticed his racing heartbeat and the cold sweat on his shaking hands. That boy sure knew how to get all the attention. Seeing his brother keel over like that was an image he could have lived without.

"You back with the living?" he asked again as Sam lowered the paper bag.

"Dean...you don't look so good"

"Yeah right back at you. Don't do that again, or..."

"Or what? You'll kill me?"

Dean froze until he saw the slightest glimmer of a smile in Sam's bleary eyes.

"So not funny dude."

The soft snort followed by a thankful smile was all Dean needed to be able to breathe again himself.


	4. 4 Deer in the headlights

Warnings: Spoilers for Croatoan and Hunted. MILD Wincest. VERY mild.

Author's Note: The big talk! Finally!

Disclaimer: The boys and everything involving them belongs (sadly...*snif* ) to the godlike Kripke... or Chuck...well you get the drift.

Playlist: none

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 4: Deer in the headlights**

After that little 'incident' Deans worried eyes were practically glued to his brother. No outsider would have picked up on it, probably not even Bobby but Sam had him figured out in a matter of seconds.  
With a sigh he rested his head against to cool window of the Impala and tried to ignore it as they drove towards the next motel to crash for the night.

He loved his brother for his protectiveness over him, especially when he turned into a complete mess like today. He was embarrassed by his freak-out, his inability to look after himself. No wonder Dean seemed to think he couldn't leave him by himself for just one minute.

Back in Rivergrove he secretly had been glad, that his brother stayed by his side. How selfish was that? If he really had turned, Dean could be dead now.

A visible shudder ran through him at the thought.

Out of the corner of his eye he could see his older brother cranking up the heat a little further without even taking his eyes off the road. Sam had to smile.

With Dean everything seemed to come naturally and out of instinct, no words needed.

But exactly that instinct had complicated things between them even further, he realised with a frown.

They still hadn't talked about the kiss, or whatever it had been. Dean probably would have preferred to simply forget about it, pretend like it never happened and go back to their normal routine, but he couldn't. The moment Deans lips had crashed against his, his mind had gone completely blank. Shocked out of his wits. He should have felt disgusted, after all, he was talking about kissing his brother here. His own brother! But disgust had had nothing to do with him pulling back. Only surprise and confusion.  
There had been this one second, just before Dr. Lee had knocked them out of their bubble, where every fibre in him had screamed for Dean to get closer again, to grab him and pull him in for another kiss. And that scared the crap out of Sam.

* * *

"Home, crappy home." Dean mocked as his duffel landed with a loud creak on the bed.

Sam had followed close behind, still a little wobbly on his feed, but at least the color had returned to his face.

The room wasn't that bad, actually. Besides a TV they even had a little kitchen including a coffee machine with free coffee powder and tea bags sitting on the counter.

Dean was already busy spooning coffee into the machine and heating up some water as Sam wandered out of the bathroom showered and in a fresh set of clothes a couple of minutes later. He had practically been drenched in sweat after his breakdown and was happy to get rid of the damp fabric, clinging to him.

"What's the water for? Machine broken?" he wondered as he stuffed the dirty pile into his duffel. They would need to do laundry soon if he kept going at this rate.

"Nah, that's for you. You're not getting any caffeine tonight, you need your rest."

"And you don't?" Sam asked in a taunting tone.

"I wasn't the one fainting earlier." Dean shot back in a calm voice, not even looking up.

"I didn't faint! I..."

One perk of Dean's eyebrows was enough to shut his little brother up. Sam gave his best bitchface, causing a grin to spread on the older ones face, before he turned back to his task.

"You hungry? Let's order pizza. I'm starving." he called out over his shoulder while he got a tea bag out of the small kitchen cabinet.

"Hey Dean." was all that came back, completely disregarding the question. If Sam would have looked up at his brother instead of staring down his duffel, he would have noticed the slight cringe in his movements.

He knew that undertone in Sam's voice. Every time his brother started a conversation like that, they would either end up in a chick-flick moment or he was about to reveal something Dean wasn't sure he wanted to know about. He wasn't really in the mood for any of them. However, when Sam wanted to get something off his chest the only way to avoid bloodshed was to listen.

Composing his face into a mask of innocence he turned around and looked towards his brother.

"Hm?"

Sam's shoulders were slumped but tense. Dean had never understood how the boy was able to radiate such a level of uncertainty and confusion without even looking up.

"I...ehm...I just wanted to talk to you about something." Figured.

"I'm listening." Dean said as he turned back to get the drinks ready, since Sam didn't seem to be up for eye contact anyway, dreading the things to come.

The boy's need to get everything out in the open could be a curse sometimes. No matter how much time they had spend together on the road, Dean just couldn't get comfortable with it. But at the same time it was so Sam, that he couldn't help but go along with it. Most of the time, at least.

"Have you...I mean...did you..." Sam really had no idea how to say this. He already felt stupid for even bringing it up, not to mention his idiotic stuttering, but he just couldn't get it out of his head anymore and it was driving him insane.

Taking a deep breath he lifted his head, eyes pinched close, as he burst out: "Why did you kiss me?"

The silence that followed was deafening. He stared at his older brothers wide eyes, regretting his decision as he noticed the trapped look on his face, like a deer in the headlights.

A few seconds past before Dean was able to straighten his expression, his mind blank.  
What do you say to that? How the hell was he supposed to explain a knee-jerk reaction even he didn't understand?

"I..." his voice was barely more than a whisper. "I don't know." Desperation and confusion colouring his words.

The air in the room was sizzling with tension.

"What do you mean, you don't know?"

"I don't know, alright? What do you want me to say, Sam?" he was getting angry now, defensive.

Sam had to swallow at that. What did he want to hear? Where was he going with all of this? He had absolutely no idea. His mind was wheeling, but he needed answers, any answer, because he didn't have any.

"Dean, I..it's just, one minute I think I am dying and in the next all I know is that you kiss me. I'm just confused, man!"

"And you think I don't? I never wanted any of this to happen, alright! Not the frigging virus thing, not this! I was overwhelmed, man, I thought I was gonna loose you. My mind just went right out of the window!"

He was pretty close to shouting at this point, wanting nothing more than to grab his stuff and run. Sam already had enough crap to deal with, he didn't need more issues by his stupid-ass brother who seemed to have lost his mind. He was supposed to protect the kid, not put him under even more pressure. 'Well done, Dean...screw up of the century...'

With a defeated moan he dropped onto the nearby chair and buried his head in his hands.

"I really don't know, Sam. If I could, I would take it all back, but I can't. I'm sorry."

His voice was quivering and so quiet that Sam nearly would have missed the end.

"I'm sorry, Sammy..."

He felt like shit. He had done this to Dean. He had been the one who couldn't let it go and now his brother was sitting across the room, desperately trying to stifle the sobs that were threatening to break through. He had never seen his brother look so small, so lost. And it was his fault.

He wanted to walk over there, lay a hand on Deans back and tell him that everything was gonna be ok, like his brother had done for him so many times. However his feet felt as if someone had nailed them to the floor. His body wasn't reacting no matter how loud his mind screamed for him to get his ass over there.

His fault...all of it.

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tbc

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So, what do you think? Will the boys be able to jump back from that?


	5. 5 I'm sorry

Warnings: Spoilers for Croatoan and Hunted. MILD Wincest. VERY mild.

Author's Note: Next one up! As you can see. This one is pretty much a Sam POV, I know it is short, but a person can only loath themself so much (you'll see)

hope you like it.

Disclaimer: No...still not mine...*sob*

Playlist: Out of my hands - Dave Matthews band

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 5: I'm sorry**

The rest of the evening had been...well...gruesome.

Dean had gotten up from his chair and left the motel room without another look at his brother. When Sam, who still hadn't moved an inch, heard the car door open, he was sure that this was it. Dean would get into the Impala and leave his sorry ass here. Not that he could blame him.

However a minute later the door was slammed shut and Dean returned to the room, the half empty bottle of Scotch gripped tightly in his hand. He sat down at the kitchen table and stared at the wall as he took a long pull, the splashing of the golden liquid the only sound to be heard.

Finally Sam awoke out of his torpor and went quietly, shoulders slumped, to the bathroom. Closing the door behind him his body slacked against it as he pulled in a deep breath. Where were they supposed to go from here?  
He walked up to the sink, bracing himself on it as his eyes desperately searched his reflection for answers.

How could he make this better?

How could he help Dean?

First their fathers death, that Dean clearly blamed himself for. No matter, how often Sam tried to talk him out of it. Dean tried to hide it, but he could see it in his eyes in the quiet moments. The rare times when Dean's mask would come off and Sam could take a little glimpse inside. What he saw there scared him.

Self loathing, regret, pain, worry, helplessness.

At least now he understood where the last two were coming from.  
His fathers last words. His last will.

'Save Sammy. If you fail, you will have to kill him.'  
Something along that line, at least.

His hands had started trembling and he pressed his forehead against the cold mirror, face scrunched up in a sorry attempt to calm himself. To forget about all the shit that had happened to them in the last few months.

Why him? What had he done to deserve his own father wishing him dead? What was wrong with him and on top of the list: what did he need saving from?  
He wanted to punch something. Smash in the mirror so he didn't have to look into his pathetic face anymore.

But he knew, if he did, Dean would probably kick in the door to see what was wrong, no matter what had just gone down between them. And looking into his face would be about a hundred times worse, right now. Because Sam knew...he knew that all the pain, all the worries that were threatening to bring him to his knees were Sam's fault.  
The impossible task to kill the brother he had protected his entire life, the self loathing because of a little peck, that hadn't even meant anything. The worry whether he would turn all Jekyll and Hide one day. Sam. Sam SAM _SAM_!

Suddenly a light went on inside his head. He stared at his reflection.

A decision was made.

* * *

They hadn't spoken a word after he came out of the bathroom. Dean had moved onto the bed by then, the bottle still glued to his hand. So Sam had laid down apparently to sleep and waited. He only had taken of his shoes, which wasn't unusual for them and made things so much easier right now.

He didn't have to wait long for Dean to pass out like the night before. Half a bottle of Scotch can keep you busy for only so long.

He lingered until Dean's breathing had settled to a steady, deep rhythm, interrupted by an occasional snore, as it always did when he was out cold.  
Slowly he got up, careful to avoid the mattress from squeaking. He dug the little note, that he had prepared earlier out of his pocket and put it onto the table.

Grabbing his duffel, jacket and shoes he turned around once more, looking at the peaceful silhouette in the dark.

"I'm sorry."

The door didn't even make a noise as it closed.

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tbc

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Big thanks to brie630, liddlepierat and cold kagome for the nice reviews ^^ fuel for the muse *lol*

Everyone who enjoys this story ( which I hope are all of you, otherwise you wouldn't read this chapter, right? *puppyEyes* ) can give brie630 a hug, her early review is to blame that I am up to chapter 5 already ^^


	6. 6 Left or right?

Warnings: Spoilers for Croatoan and Hunted. MILD Wincest. VERY mild.

Author's Note: And to make sure Dean doesn't feel neglected, a Dean POV

Disclaimer: *sob* Don't make me say it again...*tearing up*

Playlist: These things - She wants Revenge

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 6: Left or right?**

"Aargh...crap." He would never, ever touch Scotch again. He'd rather kiss a damned vampire. Oh...right. Done that.

His head was pounding, making him wish himself back to the hangover from the day before. Yesterday hadn't been nearly as...  
He froze as the memories came rushing back. Yesterday. Shit.  
Dean jolted up from the bed, regretting the decision immediately as the world started to spin. Propping himself up by the elbows his eyes fell on the bed to his right. Empty.  
Call it instinct, but a cold feeling started to crawl up his spine. His head snapped towards the kitchen. Empty.

"Sam?"

Dean got up as fast as he could, all thoughts of his hangover forgotten and pushed open the bathroom door. Empty.  
He spun around and ripped open the front door of their room.

"SAM?"

No answer. The Impala, shining in the morning sun, also...empty.

He was starting to panic. Running back inside he reached for his jacket to get out his phone when something white caught his eye. He looked up and saw a note laying on the kitchen table. Dean swallowed.  
He hesitated for a second, staring warily at the piece of paper, as if it might attack him at any second. To tell the truth, he had a pretty good idea what was written on it. But suspecting or actually seeing it where two very different things.

'Come on Dean, don't be a girl.'

The steps of a convict on the day of his own execution couldn't have been any heavier than Dean's.

,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

|... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...|

|... ... ... _I have to do this one on my own._.. ... ... ... ...|

|... ... ... _Please don't look for me... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...|_

|... ... ... ... ... ..._I'm sorry. For everything... ..._ ... ... ...|

|... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...|

_|... _... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..._Sam... _... ... ... ... ... ... ...|

_|,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,|_

Two minutes later the guests in the room next door nearly fell out of their beds when a chair went flying across the room.

* * *

His first instinct had been to get into the car and start looking for his brother, but he had absolutely no leads. Driving aimless cross country wouldn't do him or Sam any good.  
He was going to rip his brothers head of and stuff it up his where-the-sun-doesn't-shine!  
As soon as he had him back, back with him so he could make sure he was alright...

He had called up Bobby, Ellen, Joe, even Andy and Missouri, but no one had heard from Sam. Where the hell was the guy?

Next step on the list was a little chat with the receptionist of the motel, a sweaty guy in his forties that really needed to cut down on the burgers. Sam had needed a car to get out of town, that was certain. He wouldn't wait the night out at the bus station, in case Dean would have woken up earlier.

Damned Scotch!

Turned out, he was right. The car of the people in the room next to theirs had been stolen last night. Nice and anonymous brand, jackpot. He even had the plates.

"Did you find him?" was the first thing Bobby said as Dean called him again.

"Not yet, but he stole a car at the motel. Could you do a search for me?"

"Shoot."

"Dark blue Honda Civic, Plates CEG 224."

"I'll get back to you."

"Thanks, Bobby."

Dean was just about to hang up, as Bobby rough voice spoke up once again.

"And Dean, if anything comes up, call me, you understand?"

"Sure thing, mom."

"Idjit." was the last thing Dean heard before the call got disconnected.

All he could do now, was wait.

* * *

Left or right?

Dean stared at the street sign hoping for some kind godsend ray of light to point him into the right direction.

He had waited for five hours, pacing the room, probably leaving a ditch behind for future customers to trip over. No one could expect him to wait any longer, or he was going to go crazy.

Left or right?

Letting his head rest on the steering wheel he pulled in a deep breath.  
Sam was fine. No one managed to get themselves into trouble in less than a day, not even Sam. Right?

No need to worry...This so wasn't working.

Left or right?

_'I have to do this one on my own'_

What the hell was that even supposed to mean? Didn't he trust Dean anymore?  
Yes, the last week had been anything but a joyride, but that didn't give him the right to ditch his brother, damn it! With everything that had happened and this so called destiny crap looming over their heads, they needed to stick together, more than ever before.

He prayed to god that they could get back on track after this.

Dean faced every persons nightmare everyday. Creature most people couldn't even dream about. Last night though, last night had been one of the most frightening moments of his life. Feeling his brother slip away with every word he said, with every word he kept to himself.

"Screw it." The Impala came back to life with a loud growl as Dean steered the car back on the road and headed left.

Twenty minutes, a call from Ellen and an U-turn later Dean was finally back on track.

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tbc

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thx brie630, you make my day ^^

AND YES I admit it, I actually rewatched the bits, where you see the Civic about 100 times to see the plates and to figure out the brand (sorry, but yes, I don't know what a civic look like! *lol*)

Did anyone else notice that in 4x21 there also isa blue honda civic missing? Sorry, I'm a geek for details...


	7. 7 Old friends

Warnings: Spoilers for Hunted.

Author's Note: This one took me a while *groan* Don't know why, it just did.

**First off: **I'm skipping quite a bit of the middle of the episode, because my little universe would be exactly the same as canon. So if you don't remember what happened in between you might have to rewatch the episode 'Hunted'.

**Second:** If the last scene of this confuses you, please read my Note at the very end of the chapter!

**Furthermore:** Yes, the scene with Ellen is important ^^

Disclaimer: I just borrowed the guys to play with them. Couldn't help myself.

Playlist: Spirit in the sky - Norman Greenbaum

Battle of one - 30 seconds to Mars

Annoying other Author's Note: OOOOOPS! I just noticed that I actually have a mistake in chapter 4...crap. Crossroad Blues was before Croatoan...So they actually DID talk about John's deal, already... *goes back and changes part* There... that's better. ^^ Sorry guys.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 7: Old Friends  
**

The Roadhouse was busy around this time of the day. Hunters from all around the country came here to drink, trade information, or just meet up with old friends. A place where no one gave you a second glance when you started cleaning a weapon while you had a beer. Nevertheless Sam's entrance was followed by many suspicious looks. With his 23 years he was still quite young for a hunter and many people seemed to know about the Winchesters. Word traveled fast in this business.

Sam liked the place, even though he could have lived without the attention. Ellen was behind the bar, as usual, cleaning glases when her eyes landed on him.

"Sam." She gave him a knowing look as he approached the counter.

"Hey, Ellen." His smile was hesitant, reminding the woman of a child that had been caught stealing candy. They weren't exactly close, had only met a couple of times, but Ellen, being a mother herself had easily found some free space in her heart to tug the boys into.

"You don't seem that surprised to see me."

"Well, your brother's been calling, worried sick, looking for you."

"Yeah. Figured he might." Sam had known that his note wouldn't change anything about that, but it had been worth a try.

"What's going on between you two?" The concern in her eyes felt like a warm blanket wrapped around him. It was weird, considering how little they actually knew each other. Sam never really got to know his mother and he wouldn't go so far as to call Ellen a surrogate, but it was always calming to be around her. He had spend most of his life being surrounded by men, allowing him to really appreciate a woman's company. But the issues Dean and he had were family business, no matter how much he trusted her.

"So, um, how's Jo?" he tried to change the topic, receiving a knowing chuckle from Ellen, who went with it.  
They talked for a little bit, sidestepping topics that were to hard to face, but finding themselves on eye level in the things that stayed left unsaid. Dodging another painful memory Ellen finally asked: "Um, so, why did you come here, sweetie?"

He sighed.  
"I need help."

* * *

_(Author note: I'm doing a little time jump here, because otherwise I would just repeat the episode. I advice to just put 'Hunted' on while you read, if you can't remember the plot ^^ I always get a laugh out of their facial expressions when I imagine that my story is actually taking place in Canon. _

_So I skip straight to Dean finding Sam._

_Over and out.)_

* * *

"Thank god you're ok."

Dean had been driving all night, only stopping for gas and a refill of much needed caffeine. His headache was nearly gone, but his eyes were burning from the lack of sleep. Lafayette wasn't New York, but it also wasn't a village. Bobby still hadn't called him back, which meant that Sam probably still drove the blue Civic. Sloppy move, since Dean knew what to look for then. His brother would have avoided the interstates, driving a stolen car, so he probably came into town from the west. It wasn't hard to figure out what kind of a motel he would pick.

The moment he saw Sam through the window his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Everything was alright now. The other stuff they could deal with later.

Sam moved away from his sight, giving Dean a clear view on a cute looking girl.

"Oh, you're better than ok. Sam, you sly dog." A shameless smile was spreading across his face.

'That's my boy.' If Sam had wanted a little 'private time' to himself all he had to do was...

The rooms window exploded into a million pieces as a bullet raced through it and hit the very spot where Sam had been standing a second ago.

"What the..." Dean was already out of the car searching the area for the shooter, all other thoughts vanished in a heartbeat. The moment his eyes fell on the rifle on the roof just across the parking lot he dashed towards the stairs. Taking three steps at a time, he reached the top in no time. Seeing the assailant, he froze for a fraction of a second. 'You got to be kidding me!'

"GORDON!"

His foot connected with the hunters jaw, making him let go of his weapon. Dean was on top of him before Gordon knew what hit him. Punches came raining down on his head, making him see stars. Dean was in a frenzy. Dragging him up by the shirt he got right into Walker's face.

"You do that to my brother, I'll kill you!"

"Dean wait!" But Dean didn't care. The pumping of his own blood the only sound he heard, as his fists came flying, already covered in the other hunter's blood. Raising his arm for another blow, Dean missed Walkers sudden attack and lost his balance. He saw the rifle racing towards his head. Everything went black.

* * *

Mould.

Why did he smell mould?

Wearily he opened his eyes, taking his surroundings in. Broken floorboards, covered in dust, cracked wooden walls, spiderwebs.

"See who is awake." His head spun around to the deep voice to his right.

"Gordon." The only thing holding him back from lunging was the chair he was tied to.

"I swear, if you hurt him..."

"Relax. Sammy is fine. For now, at least." The most disturbing thing about Gordon Walker was his unwavering calm. Dean on the other hand was seething with rage, though he tried to hide it. He took a deep breath to get his voice back under control and tried a different angle.

"Gordy, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not really into this tying up stuff, you know?" The younger hunter mocked, giving him his best I-know-I'm-awesome smirk he had. Gordon didn't even blink. This wasn't working.

"Sam doesn't even know I'm here, so you should probably break out a deck of cards while we wait. Could take a while. You don't happen to have any beer here, do you?"

Gordon looked daggers at him.

"Nah, didn't think so."

While bantering on Dean had tried to wiggle his way out of the ropes, but there was just no way. The guy sure knew how to tie a knot, he had to give him that. Maybe that's where the Gordian knot came from?

"Don't worry Dean, Sam will come here." The hunters voice interrupted his musings.

"Yeah? And how is that?" Was that guy deaf? His brother didn't even know he was in the same state!

"Because you are going to tell him to."

Dean froze.

"Excuse me? Why the hell would I do that?" He knew Walker was a nut-job, but this was getting ridicules.

Gordon stood up to stand right in front of Dean, reaching for a compact hand-fire gun.

"Because otherwise you will have to explain a bullet wound to the urologist."

Dean's face went blank, actually lost for words. He knew Walker well enough to know that the guy wasn't kidding.

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Ok, for everyone that freaked out because of the end, the last sentence took me ages. In the episode, they never show why Dean was actually playing along with Walker.

First I thought: Yeah, he'll just threaten to kill him. First problem here: Dean would take the bullet, no questions asked. Second problem:it's, if you ask me, not really Walker's style, especially not with Dean and by killing him his whole plan would be for nothing.

So then I rewatched the scene a few times and noticed where walker is actually pointing his gun. *rofl* Yes, you saw right. In combination with the looks Dean is giving him and his "bite me" in the end, I think that is what really happened. Even though it took me about 10 more minutes to actually find the courage to write it... *prude little something*

**(Or did everyone but me notice that from the get go and I'm totally embarrassing myself here?)**

Anyway, I can't keep a straight face anymore when I watch that scene


	8. 8 Your heart stops

Warnings: Spoilers for Hunted.

Author's Note: This was a Bi#*h to write. I don't know why, but all scenes involving Walker are hard. I like him , don't get me wrong, but the guy is darining, even when he doesn't speak.

Disclaimer: I just borrowed the guys to play with them. Couldn't help myself.

Playlist: suprisingly none

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 8: Your heart stops  
**

That was it. This day was the official confirmation for his theory. He was definitely cursed. How else would you explain it?

First it turns out that nationwide only four people fit the profile of the Yellow Eyed Demon, including himself, two guys he already met and a cemetery inhabitant. Awesome.

Then another psychic, Eva Wilson shows up and tells him that she saw him blow up in an old house.

But that's not even the best part, no. He and all the other psychics were supposed to become soldiers to fight against their own race in a coming war and to top it all up some hit-man was out to get him. And Dean wondered where his migraines were coming from...

Dean. It wasn't the first time today that he wished his brother was here with him. Not only as backup to figure out who was after him, just as his brother he could lean on when everything seemed to fall apart. And this...these news about a coming war...this was big.

"Who are you calling?" Eva asked as he reached for his mobile.

"My brother. I think we definitely need help." Dean would probably rip his head off for taking off like that, but here were bigger things at stake. If something happened to Sam Dean might never find out about the demons plans. At least not until it was too late.

"Hello?" his brothers deep voice answered after a couple of seconds.

"Dean!"

"Sam, I've been looking for you."

Shit. Dean didn't sound happy at all. He suddenly felt eight years old again when he accidentally broke his brothers first Walkman.

"Yeah. Look, I'm in Indiana, Lafayette."

"I know."

What? He hadn't seen that one coming.

"You do?"

"Yeah, I talked to Ellen." Ok, maybe he should have seen that, considering Ellen actually was in Deans shoes when it came to Joe.

"Just got here myself. It's a real funky town."

His whole body stiffened at that. Funky town? Oh crap. Dean was in trouble. Someone had a gun on him. Which probably meant that the guy was standing right next to him right now, listening to every word they were saying. A hundred bucks on the guy being the same one that had fired at them earlier.

"You ditched me, Sammy."

He had to stay cool. Pretend as if this was just a random phone call. Dean's life might depend on it.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Look, right now there's someone after me."

"What? Who?"

"I don't know, that's what we need to find out. Where are you?"

"I'm staying at 5637 Monroe St. Why don't you meet me here?"

"Yeah. Sure." Hanging up, knowing that Dean was in danger was the hardest part.

"What is it?" Eva asked. He had almost forgotten about her, trying to come up with a way for his brother and himself to make it out of this alive.

Wait. Eva had told him earlier that she saw him die by hitting a trip wire. At least now he knew what to look out for.

"My brother's in trouble."

* * *

Why did all those sons of bitches have a thing for monologues? He just didn't get it.  
Walker had just held a little speech, actually daring to compare Sam with Hitler. For that alone he deserved a good beating.

But all this crap about destiny, Sam's destiny...He could taste the bile in his throat.

"Look, I'm sympathetic."

'Oh Gordy, don't sell yourself short.'

"He's your brother, you love the guy. This has got to hurt like hell for you." The guy had no idea. Hell couldn't be any worse than this. If this thing went south, he would have Sam's blood on his hands. He was the one that led him here.  
Looking around, he desperately tried to find a way out of this. But there just wasn't. He couldn't do anything to save his brother.

Suddenly Gordon got up, interrupting Deans thoughts.

"But here's the thing." he continued, holding something in his hand Dean couldn't see, making his spine crawl. The moment the bandanna pressed into his mouth, gagging him, he felt the panic rise. Now he had no way of warning Sam about the second explosive charge, or even the tripwire itself. He had been cocky towards Gordon, saying that Sam would never fall for this trap. In reality though he had to admit that he simply didn't know. They already had quite the reputation under their colleagues, were well trained, but ghosts didn't usually use frigging tripwires! And that son of a bitch next to him was still monologuing!

"It would wreck him. But your dad? If it really came right down to it, he would have had the stones to do the right thing here. But you're telling me you're not the man he is?"

The look on Deans face was more than deadly.

* * *

The moment the first explosion went off Dean wanted to throw up.

He screamed at Gordon, wanted to punch that sordid calm right out of his overconfident face. A tiny part of him still hoped that Sam had been able to dodge the worst part of the detonation. Unconscious maybe, but still in one piece. It couldn't be any other way. Sam couldn't be dead. He just couldn't.

"Hold on. Not yet. Just wait end see."

He needed to get out of this chair before the second explosive could go off. Stop all of this and get to his brother as fast as his legs would carry him. Hopeless.

There is this one fraction of a second before an explosion when all sound seems to be sucked out of the room. It was the same second that Dean's heart shattered.

The blast wave was enough to push him forward in his chair. No way anyone in that room could have survived it.

He couldn't breath. He couldn't even scream anymore. All he felt was pain.

Gordon walked past him, the rifle ready by his side to make sure the job was done.

"Sorry Dean."

He was gonna rip that son of a bitch apart! Even if it was the last thing he did. He would make sure that it wasn't quick, no. It would be messy and he would enjoy every second of it!

"Put it down now!" Sam's voice sounded through the shed.

Deans head snapped around and with it his whole world snapped back into place. He had never heard anything so beautiful in his life. His brother was alive!

"Sam?" He tried to shout out but his voice was muffled by the bandanna. Desperately he tried the free himself, kept pulling at the ropes until he felt his skin give way. He needed to get up, Sam needed help judging by the sounds that reached him. He tried to catch a glimpse of his brother, turning his head as far as it would go, but all he saw were shadows. When the noise died down he held his breath. Unsteady steps were approaching him from behind and he felt his heart melt back together as he recognised them as Sam's. There were no words for the relieve that flooded his body when his brother came into view for the first time. Sam couldn't untie him fast enough for his liking.

Before the younger one knew it he was pulled up by the shoulders. Dean turned Sam's head to the side, assessing the damage. His eyes flickering from concern to relief and back, while Sam just wanted to fall against his big brother and pretend all of this had just been a bad dream.

He was drained and felt his legs starting to give way, Dean's hands on his neck the only thing keeping him from staggering. And just then Sam felt it again. This unfamiliar urge to somehow get closer. His arm came up to lay on Deans shoulder, trying to reassure him that he was ok, but Dean was already turning on his heel to go after Walker, breaking Sam out of his trance.

"Dean! No!"

"I let him live once, I am not making the same mistake twice."

"Trust me. Gordon is taken care off."

Not even five minutes later Gordon Walker was the one that had his hands tied up.

Not with ropes and not to a chair, but handcuffs and a police car would do for now.

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What do you think? Too slow, too dragging, to fast?

big thx again to brie630, can't tell you how happy I am to have you

and also to Twinchester angel, that was the cutest review ever ^^

**Next chapter: **There are wounds to be patched up. But not all of them are physical. FLUFF ALARM ^^


	9. 9 Lean on me

Warnings: Spoilers for Hunted. MILD Wincest. VERY mild.

Author's Note: Hey guys! "Only" took me 9 chapters to deal with 2 episodes _' ...This was supposed to be a ONE SHOT! Can you believe it? I'm having a mental breakdown here...Because if I keep going at this rate, this story will become huge...

Second Note: I noticed that the boys must have cleaned and patched themselves up sometime before Dean called Ellen. I have no idea how they do it, but Sam and Dean both have not a scratch on their pretty faces in the following scenes. Considering the beatings each of them took they should be covered in them. So I'm gonna go with them actually HAVING a few cuts and bruises, because let's be honest: It is kind of hot when they stitch each other back together. (And I just love to see them suffer... muwaahahaaaa)

Disclaimer: Wanna bet that Kripke made a deal to come up with this show? Would explain the 5 year story arc... 5 years fame, 5 years spending the money.

Playlist: Rain - Breaking Benjamin

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 9: Lean on me**

Sam had parked the blue Honda not far from the old cabin, but with the cops still around they decided to just leave it behind. Dean's arm was wrapped around his brothers back, allowing Sam to support at least part of his weight on him as they headed back towards the Impala.

"You sure you're ok?" the older hunter couldn't hide the concern in his voice.

"Yeah, just a little dizzy, that's all." The kick Gordon had planted right in his face still made his skin pound.

Comfortable silence settled over them on the walk back to the motel. Both of them exhausted and lost in their own thoughts.  
Sam was glad that this day was nearly over. He just couldn't take any more surprises. Instead he wanted to crawl into a bed and sleep for a week. Sadly thing were pointing ore towards another restless night in the Impala. Gordon could be black mailing them right now and getting as far away from this town as possible seemed to be the only solution.  
When the motel came into view about an hour later, Sam started to speak again.

"Where did you park the Impala?"

"At your motel."

"What? How did you know where I was staying?"

Dean had to smirk. His A-student brother clearly didn't have enough criminal energy in his bones to think like a convict on the run.

_'Little Hitler...yeah right.'_

"Well, there are only so many blue Honda Civics with your plates around. Might remember to switch cars next time." His face fell as he realised the meaning of his own words.

'Next time.' He knew there was no way of holding Sam back from leaving again, if that was what he really wanted. His eyes were suddenly glued to the ground, trying to push the thought away.

"There won't be a next time." The younger man's steady voice broke the silence. Dean looked up, eyes a little widened as he took in his brother's reassuring half-smile.  
He felt his own mouth twitch up at the corners as he held his brother's glance for a couple of seconds. Feeling a chick-flick moment just around the corner he cleared his throat.

"You actually gonna unlock that door or do I have to wait for the second date until you'll ask me inside?"

The laugh that erupted from Sam as he reached for the keys was contagious.

None of them had to say it, because they could see it in each others eyes.

No matter what had gone down between them, it didn't matter.

For the first time in a long time, they were good.

* * *

"Damn it!" Dean hissed through clenched teeth.  
"Stab me with it next time will you?"

"If you would stop squirming like a girl I could actually aim, you know!"

Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed while Sam was stitching up the laceration on his brother's forehead. Normally he would be chugging a bottle of Scotch right now to soften the pain. Since he had forgotten to get a new one, that option was out. He needed to be sober anyway for getting them out of town as soon as they were done here. Sam was patched up already and he seemed to be nearly done, too.

"He got you pretty good with that rifle."

"Hm."

"What I don't get, Dean, is why he did it. I mean, I know we aren't exactly on his Christmas card list, but this was a little extreme, even for Gordon."

Dean felt his throat tighten. He didn't want to lay the crap Gordon had been muttering on his brother. He had been wrong, that was as plain as day. All that stuff about Sam turning evil, he wouldn't let it happen, he would find a way to save his brother. After what had happened between them though he owed it to Sam to be honest.

"Gordon wasn't out for revenge. He was hunting." The confused look on Sam's face made his heart stutter.

"Walker knew about this 'coming war' and about your visions, Sam. He was hunting you." His voice was barely above a whisper when the last sentence left his lips.

The hand holding the needle froze in midair. He looked up at his brother's face, expression reflecting a bunch of different emotions, none of which Dean liked.

"Hey Sam, look at me."

When a couple of seconds later the younger one still hadn't shown any reaction, Dean stood up, getting uneasy.

"Sam?" His voice was soft but firm.  
Finally he grabbed Sam by the neck and turned his head to face him, letting his hand linger.

"You listen to me, alright? Gordon is a crazy lunatic. That son of a bitch had no right to hunt down you or that other dude with the sizzling fingers. You understand?"

Sam just nodded, swallowing back the lump in his throat, still not meeting his eyes.

"Sam?"

"Yes." His voice was still a lot too thin for Dean's liking, but there was nothing else he could do right now to boost his brother's self esteem.

He gave Sam's neck a squeeze, finally catching his full attention. His eyes were carrying the weight of the world and the older hunter felt his own heart constrict.

Sam wanted it all to stop. His life was on such a steep downwards slide, that it made his head spin.

Why couldn't they ever get space to breath, at least for a little while?

Dean was there, anchoring him and he leaned into his touch, desperately needing to know that he wasn't alone.

"I won't let anything happen to you." Dean's low voice said in a calming tone.

Resting his forehead against Sam's he added:

"I promise."

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What do you think? I personally would love to see the very last picture on screen with the camera zooming out. Breaking Benjamin are great to write to *sob*

**btw:** I didn't adress the talk in the car because I love it the way it is. It's one of the rare moments where the boy's REALLY say what they think. So Just watch it, if you can't remember it ^^


	10. 10 Being Brothers

Warnings: Spoilers for Hunted and Playthings. MILD Wincest. VERY mild.

Author's Note: Hello everyone and congratulations! We actually made it to the double-digits! *bounces up and down* But I'm sorry to tell you that the boy's won't have much to celebrate in this chapter. Takes place in between Hunted and Playthings.

Disclaimer: Does eBay sell djinns?

Playlist: Savior - 30 Seconds to Mars

Was it a dream - 30 Seconds to Mars

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 10: Being brothers**

He closed his eyes with a sigh. Enjoying the soft mattress in his back he felt himself relax. Everything was alright now that he was back. Home. This was where he belonged.

A soft whispering sound above his head interrupted his thoughts. Slowly he opened his eyes, staring towards the ceiling. The moment his brain caught up with what he was seeing, his world fell apart.

"Sam." she whispered. Her beautiful face contorted in accusation and fear.

He desperately tried to get her down, screaming, pleading and praying to every higher power he knew.

"Why, Sam?" Her right arm was stretching towards him, pale face surrounded by a halo of golden hair.

"Nonononono!" He reached for her, unbending his body until it hurt, tears blinding his vision. Just one more centimeter, just one more...  
The second his fingers brushed against her cold skin blue flames erupted from the very spot he had touched, dancing across the paleness of her hand before dashing up her arm. In the blink of an eye her whole body was enveloped in fire.

"No! Jess!"

"SAM!" he snapped awake with a start. His heart was beating furiously as he took in his surroundings. He had fallen asleep at the desk, face first on his laptop.  
Dean was leaning over him, one hand still on his shoulder from shaking him awake.

Two weeks ago Eva Wilson, a psychic that had saved Sam's life, had gone missing. They had found her fiancee, killed in his sleep, while Eva had vanished without a trace. Since then Sam had been scouring every police database he could find, searching for any sign of the young woman. So far all investigation had proved useless, but he wasn't giving up.

"How long have they been back?" Dean asked as he placed a paper cup of steaming coffee before his pale brother.

"What?" Sam pinched the bridge of his nose, blinking a couple of times. He could still see flashes of blue fire dancing before his eyes.

"The nightmares about Jess. How long they've been back, Sam?" Deans voice was heavy with concern. Sometimes it was nearly impossible to tell what was going on in that freakish head of his brother. However he had seen the repercussion of these dreams too often, to not recognize them.

"Just about two weeks."

Dean gaped at him for a moment, before he found his voice again.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Sam really had no time for this. He needed to get back to searching for Eva. So he simply shrugged his shoulders and turned back towards his laptop.

"Fine." Dean sulked. Sam didn't even have to look up to know it. He could hear it in the way his brother stomped off to his bed. When he looked up Dean had made himself comfortable on the comforter, munching on a burger, making as much noise in the process as humanly possible. He sighed and went back to work.

Sam had been withdrawn ever since that Eva girl vanished. Dean knew that his brother blamed himself for it. The nightmares were just another pointer towards his some reason though Sam's behaviour seemed off. There were no aggressive outburst, no wallowing in self-pity, no puppy dog eyes, no nothing, apart from the nightmares. Not that Dean was complaining, Sam in full on emo-mode was no fun at all. It was just...weird.

He looked over to Sam, who was sitting hunched over the laptop, completely absorbed in his work. Dean's eyes got caught at his brother's shoulders. He had to swallow.  
Maybe it was the shirt, maybe not, but Sam's shoulders seemed to have broaden even further in the last couple of weeks. The guy was a hulk already, making Dean feel like a midget half the time.

No matter how much he tried to ignore it, Sam wasn't a kid anymore. He had faced things that would turn most men into whimpering messes. Of course Dean would never let his brother know this, but sometimes he couldn't help but think that Sam was the stronger one of the the two of them. The guy's heart was too big for his own good, but Dean admired his ability to hold on to faith or hope, no matter how desperate the situation. When it came to dealing with emotions he clearly could learn a lot from his younger brother.

"Dean, you are kind of making me uncomfortable." Ripped out of his thoughts his eyes met Sam's and he realized that he had been staring for quite a while.

"Ok, I'll go for another coffee run."

It wasn't the first time that he was thankful for Sam being the one with the disposition to blush.

* * *

"Harvelles Roadhouse." Ellens voice came through the speaker.

"Hey, it's Sam."

"Sam, good to hear from you boy's. Anything new come up about that Eva girl?"

"I was actually going to ask you the same thing." Sam answered, dragging a hand over his face in an attempt to clear his mind.

"I'm sorry, Sam. I wish I could do more. But no one's even heard of the girl, let alone seen her." Ellen had been asking around at the Roadhouse, even managed to convince a couple of other hunters to keep an eye out for Eva.

"Yeah, I figured as much..." He couldn't hold back a heavy sigh. "It's been a month now...I don't know what to do anymore, Ellen. There is just nowhere else to look."

"Listen, sweety. I don't know if you boys are up for it, but I got a possible haunting in a hotel not too far from you in Cornwall, Connecticut. Might be good to take a break from all of this."

Sam sighed again.  
"Yeah, maybe you're right. You got any more details?"

* * *

_(Authors note: The talk between Sam and Dean at the beginning of the episode Playthings follows directly after this. We cut back as they check into the hotel)_

* * *

"Well, congratulations, you could be some of our final guests." Susan, the hotel owner, greeted them with a sad smile. The building definitely had style with it's wood works and timber frames. But even the size of the place couldn't quite hide that it was past it's prime.

"That sounds vaguely ominous." Sam had to grin at Dean's comment. His brother was clearly enjoying this job. Being stuck on finding Eva for about a month, without working any cases, had stretched his brother's patience to the breaking point. Being back in the saddle felt good. He inwardly thanked Ellen for the little nudge in the right direction.

"No, I'm sorry, I mean we're closing at the end of the month."

A honest smile spread over her features, making her look years younger, as she appraised them.

"Let me guess. You guys are here antiquing?"

Dean took a second to recompose himself. Glancing over for Sam's approval he turned back to Susan, charming his way through the lie.

"How'd you know?" Often it was the easiest way to just go with peoples assumptions.

"Oh, you just look the type."

Sam had to bite back a grin as a uncomfortable grimace etched itself onto his brothers face. Dean as a antiques buff, that was a sight to behold.

"So, king-sized bed?"

His own smile froze, while Dean's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. Since the older one seemed to be dumbfounded and looked, like he was deciding whether to laugh or to cry, Sam stepped in.

"What? No, uh, no, we're, we're . . . two singles, we're just brothers."

A breathy "Yeah." was all Dean could muster.

Susan's eyes widened in embarrassment when she realized her mistake.

"Oh. Oh, I'm so sorry."

The distress in his brother's self-conscious expression would have been comical, if Sam hadn't been so rattled himself.

Dean was looking like a shy ten year old boy when he asked:

"What'd you mean that we look the type?"

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tbc

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I just love how flabbergasted Dean is in this scene.

Btw, 175% of you probably noticed already, but English isn't my mother tongue. So I'm really sorry if some formulations or syntax is off. I'm trying, people ^^

And I know that Sam's nightmares don't come up in canon anymore, but I'm pretty sure that they would return when he blames himself for Eva's disappearance. I'll get back to them in the next chapter, so they actually are a plot point ^^ !


	11. 11 Overcompensating

Warnings: Spoilers for Playthings. A lot of swearing + the f word later on! MILD Wincest. VERY mild.

Author's Note: Guess who is back! *lol* I've got a few things to say today

**- First of:** Was anyone but me freaked out by all those dolls in this episode? I hate these damn things. Waited for one of them to start moving and attack *shiver*

**- Second:** those of you that think there is too little Wincest in here. I know, it is taking it's time and I'm actually biting my nails here too for something to happen, but what can I do? The boy's just aren't ready yet. Don't take this the wrong way, I don't mean to criticise all the amazing Wincest FFs that are out there but I am really trying to make the development between the two organic and realistic. You don't just turn around and say: Hey brother, up for some incest? *lol*

**- Furthermore:** I know, I am a sad person without a life, and writers shouldn't do this but: If you have thoughts about this story, let me know. If there are parts you don't like, then stomp me into the ground, **especially if the boys seem OC!** Suggestions or wishes for upcoming scenes are always welcome, too. No promises that I can always fulfill your wishes, but I will try.  
- last but not least: Enjoy the ride ^^  
_(did anyone actually read all of this?)_

Disclaimer: This is the hardest part of writing FFs. Every damn time you get reminded that they are not yours...damn you, Kripke.

Playlist: Crazy Circles - Bad Company

Hurricane - 30 Seconds to Mars

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 11: Overcompensating**

'Kingsize bed. My ass!'

Dean still couldn't get over these people. Why would anyone think he was gay? Come on! There was probably no one less gay than him! To mistake Sam as queer wasn't that out of line, but him? And on top of it all the beds sucked. Great.

He was still fuming when his brother started to go over the case.

"All right. Victim number one: Joan Edison, forty three years old, a Realtor handling the sale of the hotel; and victim number two was Larry Williams, moving some stuff out to Goodwill."

"Well, there's a connection, they're both tied up in shutting the place down."

Not that he could blame them. This hotel really sucked.

"Maybe somebody here doesn't want to leave, and they're using hoodoo to fight back." The younger hunter suggested.

Downstairs Sam had been trying to steer the conversation towards tamer topics. They couldn't afford to get on Susan's bad side if they wanted to solve this case. Anyway it wasn't the first time that someone mistook them for a couple. No big deal, since they didn't really look like brothers. Though this time it kind of hit a mark with Sam. The second he had grasped what Susan meant by 'king-size bed' his mind had jumped back to Rivergrove and it was annoying him. They had dealt with the kiss, or whatever it had been. The issue was over! Nevertheless he buried himself in the case as soon as they entered the room .

"Who do you think our witch doctor is, that Susan lady?"

"No, doesn't seem likely. I mean, she is the one selling."

"So what then, Sherwin?"

"I don't know."

Dean just couldn't concentrate. This room was creeping him out. Every time he looked at that weird dress dangling from the wall he had to suppress the urge to grab for his lighter. The fact that his mind was wandering back to Rivergrove didn't really help either. He inwardly cursed Ellen for getting them on this case.  
Sam seemed to be cool about all of this, which bugged him even more.

"Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we're gay?"

"Well, you are kinda butch. Probably think you're overcompensating."

Sam shot back, not missing a beat. Biting back a grin he wished he had a camera when he saw his brothers reaction.

* * *

They walked through the hall, searching for other signs of hoodoo spellwork. Well, actually Sam was searching while Dean was trying to figure out why anybody would think he even had something to overcompensate for.

_'Well you are kind of butch' _He mocked in his head. Smartass.

"Hey." Sam suddenly stopped to pick up an old urn from one of the cabinets.

"Look at that. More hoodoo." He pointed at the quincunx that was inscribed on it's inside.

At least they seemed to be on the right trail. Dean looked around until the 'Private' sign on the door next to them caught his attention. Not wasting any time he walked up to it and knocked, Sam following close by. If someone around here was chanting spells they needed an altar and where else to store it, if not here?

When Susan opened Dean regretted his decision. This was going to be awkward.  
It was clear that she wouldn't just ask them inside and their half-stammered greeting wasn't helping either. His eyes fell on the many dolls in the background and he had to bite back a smirk. Oh, Sam was so going to pay.

"Hey! Are those antique dolls? Because this one, this one here, he's got a major doll collection back home." he said, nodding towards his brother.

Sam's face was priceless. If it wasn't for Susan's presence he certainly would have kicked Dean' ass, or at least tried to.  
He wiggled his eyebrows at the younger hunter, provoking him even further.

Sam was fuming. His fist itching to wipe that smug smile off his brother face, but he really had no choice except playing along.

"Big time."

"Big time. You think he could come - or we could come in and take a look?"

Susan was still hesitant but Dean could literally see her heart melt for his dorky little brother.

He would pay for this, but the opportunity was just too good to let it pass.

"Please? I mean, he loves them."

Outraged Sam's head snapped around, throwing Dean a venomous look.

"He's not gonna tell you this, but he's, he's always dressing 'em up in these little outfits. You'd make his day. She would, huh?"

Dean nearly broke skin, biting his cheek so hard in a halfhearted attempt not to crack up. He so needed a video camera for this.

When Susan finally gave in Dean considered asking her for a seperate bedroom with safety door so he would live to see the next day.

* * *

Back at the room Sam was searching the Internet for the history of the house, while Dean had gone off to find out more about Susan's mother Rose. She was the only one with a motive, apart from Sherwin, who seemed too harmless to be involved in any hoodoo.

He was still pissed at his brother for making him look like a complete fool earlier. However he couldn't help but to be worried, too.

Dean was behaving strange ever since the little incident at check-in. The scene with the dolls had been a little extreme, even for him. To be precise his whole behaviour was off. His remarks were a lot bitchier than usual and Sam couldn't help the feeling that his brother was downright avoiding him.

Too caught up in his own thoughts he hadn't noticed the flashing lights of the police car outside. With a bad feeling he got up, pushing the curtain aside to see what was going on. His eyes fell on the obviously filled body-bag on a stretcher just before the paramedic pushed it into the ambulance car.

His throat felt constricted. Leaning against the windowframe he bit down on his lip, nearly breaking skin as anger started to pulse through him in waves. He shoved the curtain back in place, trying to cover up what was already etched into his memory.

Another one. Dead. While he had been sitting only meters away. Where were his fucked up visions when he needed them?

Nearly choking with guilt, he leaned heavily on the table he had just been working at.

Why was everything so fucked up? Why couldn't he save these people?

In an explosion his arm shot out, sending papers and books flying.

It was always the same. No matter what he did, always people got hurt.

He was trembling now, his eyes dancing across the room like a caged animal. His hand went up into his hair, tearing at the strands till it hurt.

Maybe his father had been right. Maybe he really was cursed. Maybe there was no way out of it.

There was so much evil out there, surounding him every day of his life. He felt like he was drowning, like something was pushing him under water, no matter how hard he struggled against it. Letting go of him just for a second, allowing him to take a shallow breath, so it could pull him down even further the next time.

He wanted it to stop. The pain, the fear, all of it.

He raised his head, tears blurring his vision.

His eyes fell on the mini-bar.

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tbc

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Sorry if this ruins the mood but I just remembered one of Cas's best lines ever: I found a liquor store...and I drank it. *rofl*

This chapter was hard to write and I'm not 100% happy with it, my apologies, guys! I did my best.


	12. 12 Unexpected

Warnings: Spoilers for Playthings. Wincest. NOT SO mild.

Author's Note: I am **sooooo sorry** that it took so damned long, but **real life caught up with me**! I'm sorry! But I think it was worth the wait! **FINALLY SOME ACTION!** *lol*

Second Note: LOOOOOOOOL I just watched episode 10x6 of Smallville. And there was the woman that played the god from the chrismas episode of SPN and my first thought was: NOOOOO SHE WILL EAT YOU! NOOOO! And guess what...I was right!

Disclaimer: Wanna bet that Kripke made a deal to come up with this show? Would explain the 5 year story arc... 5 years fame, 5 years spending the money.

Playlist: These Things - She wants Revenge

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 12: Unexpected  
**

Grandma Rose knew they were onto her. Dean could feel it. He didn't know how she did it, but he was convinced that old witch was using some hoodoo to toy with their heads trying to get them off her back. It just wasn't normal that a little misunderstanding as earlier at check-in would've got him reeling like this. Every time he looked Sam in the eye he just wanted to bolt from the room. Since that was out, he stuck with taking the piss out of him, whenever he got a chance. Yes, his little show act with the dolls had been overdone, but he just couldn't deal with this situation any other way.  
He had separated from his brother to find some dirt on the old woman. At least that was what he had told Sam. To tell the truth though... he couldn't stand to be jammed together into their little room right now. However his fruitless investigation were soon to be interrupted by the whining of a police siren. When he reached the porch his eyes fell on the body bag. Dean had been dreading but also expecting another murder to take place.

What he hadn't expected was the sight unfolding before his eyes when he returned to their room. Just thirty minutes had past since the newest case of 'bad luck' had taken place, as Susan had put it. Thirty minutes. In such a narrow time frame his brother had managed to get himself drunk as a skunk. Goofy laugh, wobbly head, bleary eyes, the whole package.  
Empty spirit bottles were scattered all over the little cabinet by the window and the bundle of research papers had somehow ended up all over the place.

"Dude, what are you thinking? We're working a case."

The last time Dean had seen Sam touch anything stronger than beer had been months ago after they ran into a homicidal clown. He had gotten a good laugh out of his brothers inability to conquer his 'clown-o-phobia', but not this time. This time the drinking was uncalled for and right down reckless, since it left Sam vulnerable for attacks. He wanted to be angry but the only feeling he could muster was concern. This just wasn't Sam's style at all. He was usually the one reminding Dean to go easy on the booze, especially when they hadn't figured out what they were up against yet.

"That guy who hung himself...I couldn't save him."

"What are you talking about? You didn't know, you couldn't have done anything."  
"That's an excuse, Dean." The young hunters eyes were glistening with unshed tears as he finally looked up from the chair he was slumping on.

"I should have found a way to save him. I should have saved Ava too."

At last things were falling into place. Of course this was about Ava. Frankly, Dean shouldn't have been surprised. He had feared that Sam's sudden calm concerning her disappearance had only been a facade, that would start to crumble eventually. He hadn't wanted it to go down like this though.

The older hunter approached the picture of misery that used to be his brother.

"You can't save everyone, even you said that."

Sam's fist came crashing down on the table beside him. Unchecked anger glistened in his eyes, his chest heaving with every breath he took. Dean took an intuitive step back, not wanting his face to be next thing his brother felt obliged to hit.

"No, Dean, you don't understand, all right? The more people I save, the more I can change!"

"Change what?"

"My destiny, Dean!"

The older hunter felt his own fist twitch, tasting bile in his throat. If he heard the word 'destiny' ever again he might actually have to vomit. But he pulled himself together when he registered the look on his opposite's face. Sam had always had the puppy eyes down to the nail, but now he looked downright like a lost whelp, abandoned by the side of the road. So he pushed his snappy remark back.

"All right. Time for bed. Come on, Sasquatch."

Dean grabbed him by the shoulders and manhandled him into a standing position. There was no way he could reason his brother out of his self-pity right now anyway.

"I need you to watch out for me."

"I always do." Dean replied with a grunt. It was hard to move 6'4'' of muscle and bones with a little help by the owner, but a drunk Sam was nearly impossible to deal with.

"No! No, no, no. You have to watch out for me, all right? And if I ever turn into something that I'm not"

Sam was pausing for a beat, as if he was reassuring himself that his brother was actually listening. Dean really didn't like the direction this conversation was heading, but couldn't help but simply stare at his taller brother, dreading the words that would irrevocably leave his lips.

"You have to kill me."

"Sam." He needed to get his brother into bed, needed to stop this talk here an now. This wasn't supposed to happen. Sam wasn't supposed to think about this stuff. Not like this.

"Dean you have to do it. Even now, everyone around me dies!"

"Yeah, well, I'm not dying, okay? And neither are you. Come on, sit down."

With a thump the younger one landed on his bed, as Dean pushed him into a seating position. Sam's hands were still tangled in his older brothers jacket, holding on to anything he could reach. "No, please! Dean, you're the only one who can do it. Promise."

They were only inches apart now. Dean smelled the alcohol in his brother's breath that washed over his face in warm waves.

"Don't ask that of me." He wanted to run, this was never supposed to happen. Sammy was never supposed to dread his own existence, to be scared of his future. His hand tightened around his brother's shoulder, desperately trying to lift this weight from him. It was too late though, he knew that. But he didn't want it to be too late. There had to be a way to change things, to make everything stop.

"Dean, please. You have to promise me."

He wished his father was here to take control of the situation. He prayed for his mother to be alive to stop him from doing this. Every fibre in him hurt as he answered, but this was the only way to help Sam right now.

"I promise."

Before he had time to regret his words Sam shot forward, crashing his lips onto Dean's. There was no hesitation, no second thought, just pure, uncensored need.  
Dean was too shocked to pull back. Too shocked to do anything, but freeze. His entire body tensed in a mixture of surprise, fear, confusion and adrenaline. He needed to get away, needed to stop, to distance himself from Sam as far as humanly possible. However his brain shut off as he registered the feeling of Sam's lips. They were soft against his own, hot and still tasted of tequila. Before he realised what he was doing he felt himself responding, just slightly tilting his head into the kiss. His heart was banging against his ribs, making him anxious they might break. Sam's hand was on his neck, desperately clutching him closer. His own hand somehow ended up in his brother's too long hair, grasping for redemption from the horrible obligation he had just laid upon himself. The silence in the room was only interrupted by their heavy breathing and racing hearts. Sam's lips parted just enough for his tongue to ghost over Dean's lower lip. It felt like electricity running through him, making every fibre of his body over aware. Without thinking he let his own lips part, permitting his brother entrance.

The very second their tongues met, Sam thought he was going to pass out. Nothing had ever quite felt like this before. Yes, he was drunk and he had no idea where this was coming from, and yes, he was practically forcing himself on his brother, but this just felt...right. There was no other way of putting it. His never-resting mind went blank, all thoughts of blame and destiny forgotten. For the first time in a log time he felt complete. Save.

A low moan escaped his throat and vibrated through Dean's body like an earthquake. As if waking from a dream, Dean came to his senses. What was he doing? This was Sammy, his little brother he had known for all of his life. The little guy with the running nose, sore knees, open innocent eyes and a heart as vast as the sky. This wasn't right. This was anything but right.

Jerking his head back, his hands restraining Sam from moving in closer again, Dean could only stare. Mouth slack, breathing still labored, eyes wide with fear of himself.

"Sam."  
His voice was barely a whisper. Hazel eyes gaped back at him, reflecting his own confusion like a mirror.  
The tension filled the room like a thick rain cloud, threatening to raven the air from their lungs.

"All right. Come on."

Dean bated Sam's hands away and shoved him back on the bed. His head still felt numb, caught in the haze, but he couldn't deal with this right now. Without much resistance Sam let himself rolled onto his belly, burying his spinning head in the musty pillow.

The older hunter stared at the still form in front of him.

_'What have we done...'_

Disgust for himself ascended in his throat, leaving a sour taste behind. His hand scrubbed over his mouth, trying to erase the lingering warmth of Sam's lips. He could still feel the softness of his brother's mouth against his own.

_'I'm so going to hell for this.'_

Dragging his hand over his face and through his hair he decided to do the only thing he could do right now - find the nearest bottle of Scotch.

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tbc

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_Steamy enough for now? I just love that scene, wincest goggles or not. The tension is just heart breaking. Just imagine your sibling asking you to kill them... I admire Dean for his strength._


	13. 13 Repercussions

Warnings: Spoilers for Playthings. MILD Wincest.

Author's Note: This episode is unbelievable soliciting for Wincest. So many little things to take into account *glows* Dean's little reactions can be interpreted in SO MANY WAYS. Jensen, I love you for your awesome rich acting skills!

BTW: I took out the side note, because it was more annoying than helping. Thx though to everyone that send me their ideas and suggestions! Always open for that ^^

Disclaimer: Same as always. Nothing is mine, not even the stuff that is mine.

Playlist: We are Broken - Paramore (this song is sooooo awesome for the chapter)

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 13: Repercussions**

After spreading out his own blanket over his younger brother's unmoving form, Dean left the room as quietly as possible.  
Leaning his head against the door he had just closed, he squeezed his eyes shut and pulled a much needed breath in.

_'Calm down. No one is helped if you crack now.'_

His heart was still pounding like the motor of the Impala on the Interstate. Somehow things had managed to go from bad, to worse, straight to catastrophic. He wanted to smash his fists against the wooden door until his knuckles bled, but he restrained himself not to startle Sam. Not only needed the guy his sleep, but Dean also didn't want to face the topics that would wake with him.

Letting one last controlled breath slowly leave his lungs, he pushed himself off the door and headed towards the stairs in quest of the bar.

He had no idea what had happened in there.

_'What the hell?'_

He wished they had never taken this case. They finally had been back on track after the incident in Rivergrove, had gotten their groove back. Now things were more messed up then they had ever been. Much more.

It had come out of nowhere. No warning, no chance to react. At first at least.

He should have stopped it. Sam had been drunk out of his wits, but Dean had been sober. It didn't matter that he hadn't initiated the kiss this time. He might as well have, since he had failed to pull back the very second he realized what was happening.

Dean grabbed for the railing at the top of the stairs, halting his steps to collect himself. His knuckles turned white as his fingers dug into the smooth wood-work.

Tomorrow, as soon as Sam was able to stand up straight, they would go after that witch. It had to be her, it just had to be!  
No way Sam would have kissed him otherwise, let alone Dean participating. Hell, some sick part of him had even enjoyed it! The way Sam's breath had tasted, the feel of his shoulders under his own hands.

He shook his head in disgust, a cold shiver running down his spine.

There was no other explanation, just no other damned way that this could have gone down. They would never do something like this out of their own accord. It had to be some hoodoo curse.

Tomorrow he would find a way to put an end to all of this madness.  
Tomorrow it would be Granny hunt and things would go back to normal.  
Tomorrow he would waste her.

His eyes widened as his brain caught up with his own thoughts.

_Waste her_.

_Kill her._

_'Promise me, Dean.'_

_Kill..._

_'You have to kill me.'_

His breath caught in his throat when his own words came rushing back to him.

_'I promise.'_

Dean rested his head on the cool wood that by now supported most of his weight. Burying one hand in his short hair he wanted nothing more than rewind the last hour. If he had known what this evening would turn into he would have placed a few extra bottles of booze in the mini-bar. That way Sam simply would have been unconscious by the time he returned to the room.

Throughout the years Dean had given his best to keep the promises he made his brother. Of course things didn't always go as planned, but so far he had done a pretty good job on staying true to his word. Until now.

_'I promise.'_

He had had no idea that two simple words were able to rip your heart out of your chest and stomp all over it.

Staring down at the entrance hall he made a decision. A oath to himself.  
No matter what the cost, Dean would save his little brother.  
He didn't care what Gordon, Yellow eyes or even his own father had said. Sam wouldn't turn into a monster.

As long as air filled Dean's lungs he would do everything in his power to prevent it.

* * *

The bar was deserted, apart from Sherwin, who stood behind the counter. The old man looked up when Dean entered the establishment, sloshing around a golden liquid in his tumbler.

"Find any good antiques?"

Dean took a moment to catch up with him. Somehow the old man managed to make him feel like a five year old boy getting caught while stealing apples from the neighbours tree. He thanked god that this hotel was too old to have cameras in the rooms.

"Um, no. No... got distracted."

That definitely was a way to call it.

"Have a drink."

He wasn't really in the mood for company. On the other hand this bar contained the only alcohol in miles.

"Yeah, thanks."

Dean sat down with a sigh while Sherwin poured another Whiskey.

"So, poor guy, huh? Killing himself?"

"That kind of thing seems to be going around lately."

He liked the hunched gaffer. Wrinkles furrowed his entire face, telling the story of a hard life.

"Yeah, yeah, I heard about the other ones. It's almost like this hotel is...'cursed' or something?"

"Every hotel has its spilled blood. If people only knew what's gone on in some of those rooms they've checked into."

Dean couldn't suppress the puff of air, that escaped his mouth .

_'Oh, you have no idea...'_

_

* * *

_

When Sam peeked through heavy lids all he saw was white.

It took him a second to realise that he was staring at his own pillow.

He must have fallen into a comatose sleep, since normally his limbs ended up anywhere but where they had been the night before.

Dragging a feeble hand over his sweaty face he dared to open his eyes a little further.

_'Too bright...'_ was his first coherent thought, as fingers groped the bedside table, searching for the alarm clock.

6 am.

Ok, maybe not as bright as he thought.

Judging by the silence he realised that he was the only one in the room.

With a grunt the young hunter pushed himself up, immediately regretting the decision as he felt his stomach spiral towards daylight.

All morning grogginess forgotten Sam struggled free from the comforter. Not so much running as crawling he reached the bathroom just in time.

_'Tequila...'_

_

* * *

_

Dean's hand was frozen on the doorknob to their room. He had been standing here for a couple of minutes, unsure whether to go inside or turn around and head back to the inviting armchairs downstairs. He had spent a good part of the night listening to Sherwin's old stories before getting settled into one of the mentioned seats. Scotch really enabled you to sleep anywhere.

_'Don't be a girl.'_

Joggling his shoulders once he slipped back into pain-in-the-ass big brother mode before he twisted the knob and went inside.

Even a blind and deaf man would have realised what was going on in the adjoining bathroom. The whole apartment reeked of last day's alcohol and things he didn't really want to think about.

Sam was kneeling miserably over the toilet, his hair hanging into his face. Dean didn't even try to hide the gleeful grin at the sight.

"How you feeling, Sammy?"

A throaty groan was all that came back.

The older hunter's grin grew even wider. Maybe just this once he would be favored by fortune.

"I guess mixing whisky and Jager wasn't such a gangbuster idea, was it? I'll bet you don't remember a thing from last night?"

Another groan rang out.

"I can still taste the tequila."

Dean closed his eyes as relief washed over him like a warm rain shower, flushing away his fear from the night before. Everything would go back to normal.

Just then he remembered Sam's words from months ago. He would hate Dean for bringing it up again, for sure, but sometimes you just had to take one for the team.  
His voice was rife with mischief when he shot back:

"You know, there's a really good hangover remedy, it's a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray."

A heaving sound later Sam replied: "Oh, I hate you."

"I know you do."

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tbc

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Oh poor Dean. Thinking last night's events would never come up again. You are so wrong...

**Big thanks to** brie630 and Twinchester Angel (no, there is no 'too long' for reviews ^^) for the amazing support!


	14. 14 Realisations

Warnings: Spoilers for Playthings. MILD Wincest.

Author's Note: I admit, this chapter is a little slow, but I felt it was necessary for further developments.

Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.

Playlist: Tomorrow - Lifehouse (only for Sam's part)

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 14: Realisations**

Sam couldn't stop watching his brother's blithe movements. Whenever Dean was facing the other way the younger man's eyes were practically glued to him. Dean's shoulders were relaxed, his steps sure and purposeful. It almost seemed as if nothing had happened the night before. Almost.

Every once in a while the older hunter would throw hesitant glances towards his brother. Even out of the corner of his eye Sam recognized the quizzical frown on Dean's face.

Last night had been...eventful, to say the least. He still didn't understand what had possessed him to pounce on his own brother like that.  
Sure, in his condition he had been well past the point of reason, but this? His thoughts never even strayed in that direction until it actually happened!

He grabbed a fresh set of clothes when he felt Dean's eyes burn holes into his back. Without acknowledging the action he escaped into the bathroom to get changed. They had seen each other naked a million times, since their lifestyle didn't give them much of a choice. However a little privacy while getting dressed was always welcome.

Sam dropped the garments onto the closed toilette while refreshing himself at the sink.

The young hunter knew that his brother would do everything within his power to stop him from becoming a monster. He had to smile at the thought. Dean might just be stubborn enough to actually succeed.  
Still.

Dean was only one person. One person against a world that seemed to be convinced of Sam's fate.

Dean's promise had lifted a huge weight off his shoulders. It was unfair to ask something so horrible of his brother, he knew that. His chest constricted every time he remembered the look on Dean's face in that moment. However it had been necessary. In case his abilities developed even further he just didn't know what he would be capable of. Other psychics before him had gone berserk and with dad gone...His brother was very likely to be the only one able to get the drop on him.  
He knew Dean wouldn't let him down. His big brother would do the right thing when push came to shove.  
They would be fine.

With he sigh Sam inspected his face in the mirror. Slightly bloodshot eyes stared back at him, irritated by lack of sleep and too much time of praying to the porcelain god. His hand went up to his upper lip when he noticed a spot of chafed skin.

_'Oh...'_

The young man had to swallow. Memories of Dean's breath on his face filled his senses.

The soft feeling of warm lips against his own, fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, stubble scratching against his skin...

A knock in the door startled him.

"Zip it up, Sam. We gotta go."

Pulling in a heavy breath the young man tried to clear his mind and voice from the images of last night.

"Out in a minute."

Later would be enough time to deal with this.  
As for now...they had a hunt to finish.

* * *

_(Side note: In case someone didn't get the part with the little nick on Sam's lip...try kissing a guy with beard stubble..._)

* * *

Dean was giddy with joy. Finally things were looking up. Sam seemed to have forgotten all about last night and he himself wasn't planning on mentioning it ever again. Problem solved.

And the icing on the cake: They were going on witch hunt. Finally!  
Burn witch, burn.

Getting into the private rooms of Susan wasn't difficult and they even made it past those creepy dolls without any incidents. Moving as quietly as possible they made their way upstairs. Who knew what good old Rose had planned for them?

The attic was suspiciously quiet as they sneaked towards the last door. Cold beams of light fell through the crack as they inched closer. The air was filled with dust and the smell of rotten wood. With every step the worn out floorboards seemed to be creaking louder, unnerving both of them as they moved forward.

Dean carefully pushed open the door, Sam close by his side. The room seemed to be nearly sterile, in a mouldy kind of way. Heavy wooden furniture was pushed up against the walls. The stuff was probably older than Rose herself. More light fell through the small window, dimly lighting up the scene. The silence was only interrupted by the pouring rain outside. In the center of the room sat Rose, unmoving, facing away from them.

"Mrs. Thompson?" Sam's voice sounded unnatural loud in the eerie quietness of the scene.

Cautiously they approached the old woman.

"Mrs. Thompson?" the younger hunter repeated hesitantly.

Rose's face was marked with age, her skin gray and thin as paper. Her bleak eyes stared off into nothing, body stiff and trembling.

"Hi, Mrs. Thompson, we're not here to hurt you, it's okay..." Sam stopped as he realised why the old woman wasn't responding.

Dean could feel his brother's guard drop instantly. However he wasn't convinced. It wouldn't be the first time that someone tried to lull them into a false sense of security.

Sam pulled him aside, breaking his line of thoughts.

"This woman's had a stroke."

His mind was racing with the possibility of Rose being innocent. It had to be her. There was no one else left besides her. Someone had been toying with their minds, someone had comitted these murders. Someone named Rose.

"But hoodoo's hands-on, I mean, you've got to mix herbs, and chant, and build an altar."

"Yeah. So it can't be Rose. Hey, maybe it's not even hoodoo."

It had to be hoodoo. There was no other explanation. If it was only for the murders, yeah, maybe, but their own behaviour? No ghost could do that. If it really wasn't hoodoo...that would imply...

_'No way.'_

Sam didn't notice the tangle in his brother's thoughts. His mind was already reinspecting the other possible suspects.

"She could be faking."

"Yeah, what are you gonna do, poke her with a stick?"

Sam couldn't believe his eyes when he watched his brother actually considering his suggestion.

"Dude! You're not gonna poke her with a stick!"

Before he could scold the older hunter any further another voice caused them to spin around.

"What the hell? What are you doing in here?" Susan had entered the room without them noticing and was clearly anything but happy to see them.  
In a flash she was at her mother's side, laying a protective hand on her shoulder.

"Look at her, she is scared out of her wits. I want you out of my hotel in two minutes or I'm calling the cops."

_'Cops.'_

They were gone instantaneously.

* * *

_(little time jump again ^^ If you can't remember the plot, just watch it again. Just a side note: Watch Dean's face when he tells Susan: "First we thought it was some sort of hoodoo curse, but that out there? That was definitely a spirit." Do I spot some regret there, because it means that they REALLY acted out of own accord the night before? Just thought I'd throw that in here ^^ Next chapter will tune back in after Tyler is breathing again._

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tbc

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Thx again to my lovely Reviewers! You keep this machine running ^^


	15. 15 Old Patterns

Warnings: Spoilers for Playthings. MILD Wincest.

Author's Note: *Giddy with joy* I just got a huge package - all companions, John's diary, Monsterguide and all Seasons on DVD! No food for the next month, but who cares! I had all Seasons downloaded, but the real thing just feels so much better.

Further ramblings: Also got the Devils Road-map now...Jesus these boys are to blame for the ozone hole...don't they need thrombosis injections?

Happy note: AAAAH I just realised that I hit the 20.000 words mark last chapter!** YEEEHA** to me ^^ and **to you guys for following this for so long**! You my heart bounce with joy (ok...that was gay, but you get the drift)

Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.

Playlist: Can't find my way home - Blind Faith

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 15: Old Patterns  
**

Susan was crying as she clung to her daughter. Just a couple of minutes later and the little girl would have drowned like Maggie, decades ago.

Sam's heart was still beating furiously from the jump and exertion. The water was freezing and there wasn't one dry spot left on him. His phone was probably ready for the trash can, too. However none of this really registered with him. The only thing his mind was able to feel was relief.

They had done it. Tyler was alive and breathing.  
For a moment he had thought he lost her, that he had been too slow. He didn't want to think about the consequences if that would have been the case.

"Tyler, do you see Maggie anywhere?"  
Sam hated to interrupt the two, but he had to make sure.

"No, she's gone."

Tyler's voice was so thin, making Dean shudder as he realised how tiny she really was.

Not even supernatural sons of bitches should have it in them to harm children.

It just wasn't fair.

The older hunter looked down at his soaked brother. Sam seemed massive compared to the little girl, even though most of his body was still concealed by the water.

Many years ago this guy had been just as small and vulnerable. If someone back then had hurt him or worse...Dean didn't want to think about what he would have done.

He leaned a little closer to get his brother's attention.

"You alright? That was quite a height you fell down there."

His worried expression was greeted with an eye roll.

"'Jumped, Dean. I didn't 'fall', I jumped."

Dean felt a smile spread over his features. Mocking was a good indicator that the guy was fine. A little shaken up, by the looks of it, but otherwise alright.

"Yeah, whatever gets you through the night."

Sam's face relaxed into an open grin when he met the older hunter's eyes. Dean could feel the tension fall off his own body.

They had done it. The girl was save, Sammy was alright. Not a bad day so far.

Just then he realised that they were still staring at each other.

Clearing his throat he got up from his crouch, breaking the connection.

"Come on. Get moving before you catch hypothermia, princess."

With a chuckle Sam shook his head and headed for the stairs.

* * *

_(Side note: Another little jump to the end of the episode. We get back to the boys shortly before they get into their car. Btw, those of you that would have expected a little jealous reaction from Dean when Susan hugs Sam...naaaah. They are not that far along yet. So I just skipped it. Over and out.)_

* * *

"Feels good getting back in the saddle, doesn't it?" Dean called out as he fumbled for the car keys.

Susan and Tyler had just taken off to their new, hopefully ghost-free home.

Sadly, Rose didn't make it. Megan seemed to have stopped, though. The old woman was probably her last victim.

Sam rested his plastered wrist on the roof of the Impala, his hair still wet.

"Yeah. Yeah, it does."

He didn't want to ruin the good mood his brother was in.

It always baffled him how easily Dean could blend out all the shit they had dealt with just minutes ago. Or in this case, the evening before.

Nervously his fingers started to scratch away some dirt from the Impala's black paint.

"But it doesn't change what we talked about last night, Dean."

When he finally found the courage to look up he nearly regretted his big mouth. The older man's face had changed into a mask of false oblivion, all signs of elation gone.

"We talked about a lot of things last night."

It was clear that Dean wasn't up for this talk. His stance literally screamed at Sam to stop.  
The younger hunter wanted to go with it, wished he could pretend for Dean's sake. But this was too big and too important.

"You know what I mean."

"You were wasted." the older man butted in immediately.

"But you weren't. And you promised."

This was unfair. Sam practically stared him down with his accusatory, sad eyes. He wasn't even supposed to remember!

Taken aback by his brother's conviction, Dean could just stare back with mouth agape.

He didn't want to hear this. None of it. They had been here before. Just after Rivergrove. Back then neither the discussion about their father's words nor the talk about the kiss had gone down to well for them.

It took Dean a second to follow his opposite into the car.  
He felt like he should say something, anything, but his mind couldn't find the words.  
The guy didn't even seem to expect an answer by the looks of it!

When Dean gave a promise he usually kept it and it annoyed him to no end that his brother knew it, too.

Looking back and forth between the windscreen and a brooding Sam he finally gave up.

For now.

_'Way to kill the buzz, bro.'_

Agitated he started the Impala. Giving the silent figure next to him one last worried glance he shifted his baby into gear and they were on their way out of town.

* * *

_(side note: that last scene in this episode just totally creeps me out. *shudder* I actually fumble for the stop button every time it comes on. Can't watch it... give me gore, give me blood, but please no creepy children...)_

_(side note 2: Did anyone notice that by SPN timeline Sam would have worn his cast nearly 4 months? wow...)_

* * *

'Can't find my way home' was playing as the Impala purred through a scenery of fields and trees. They had been driving for about three hours, none of them addressing the elephant in the car.

Sam was looking out of his window while absentmindedly scratching the skin under his cast. The plaster had gotten soaked when he jumped into the pool and was itching ever since.

Dean was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the music. If his brother had decided to ignore the kiss, he sure as hell wouldn't be the one to bring it up again.

Every once in a while his eyes would dart over to his co-driver, irritated by the continuous scratching noises.

"How long have you had that thing on?"

"What?" Sam answered, a little startled by the sudden interruption of his musings.

"Your cast. How long has it been?"

"Don't know. just about six weeks, maybe?"

Dean nodded and averted his eyes back on the road.

This was actually Sam's second cast in a row. The first one got removed just after their little run-in with the police in Baltimore. Danger magnet that he was, Sam had managed to re-break his wrist a couple of weeks later when a poltergeist sent him flying down a set of stairs. Just before they dealt with a crossroads demon outside of Greenwood, Mississippi.

They drove in comfortable silence for a few more hours until Dean pulled into the parking lot of a small motel.

Sam looked up from the newspaper he was reading, confusion evident on his face.

"Where are we?"

"Dubois, Pennsylvania."

"Yeah, I know that. I mean, why are we stopping here?"

"Because we aren't in a hurry. No new case has come up yet and I wanna get you out of that cast. That thing reeks."

Caution filled Sam's eyes as he instinctively pulled his arm a little closer to his body.

"Dean..." his voice had a warning tone, but the addressed person had already gotten out of the car.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna do it like last time." The older hunter replied playful as he stretched his shoulders and legs after the long drive.

Sam visibly swallowed when he remembered 'last time'.

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tbc

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_thx to my lovely reviewers! _

_btw __I got my hands on an actual timeline for Season 2. I missed Christmas and new years eve! DAMNED._

_Next chapter will be a bit lighter ^^_


	16. 16 Cut and run

Warnings: No real spoilers. MILD Wincest.

Author's Note: Nothing really to say...hm...I'm getting boring...

Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.

Playlist: You ain't seen nothing yet - Bachmann Turner Overdrive (first 2 scenes)

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 16: Cut and run  
**

Sam was sitting at the table of their sleazy room. His fingers were drumming nervously on the wood, as he waited for his brother's return.  
This wasn't good. Not at all.

Last time had been a disaster. They had ended up letting a doctor take the cast of and patching up a couple of cut marks that were rather hard to explain.  
This so wasn't good.

They had parked only a few meters away from their door, what the hell was taking Dean so long anyway?

He had broken out in cold sweat the minute his brother had brought up the topic and his heartbeat had gone through the roof.

Why couldn't they just see a doctor?

Ok, they were out of working insurance cards and running low on cash, but that was no reason to slaughter your brother like a damned pig!  
It wouldn't hurt if he kept the cast for a couple more weeks, right?

Not good. Not at all...

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin when the door opened with a nerve wrecking creaking sound. The very second his eyes fell on his brother he bolted for the other side of the room.  
Dean had returned, carrying the huge machete they normally used to decapitate vampires.

"Forget it!" Sam's voice was embarrassing close to a squeak, but right now he couldn't care less. This WAS worse than last time.

The armed man's expression was a mask of innocence.

"What?"

"NO WAY!"

"But.."

"NO!"

Dean looked at his panting brother. The boy's eyes were as big as light-bulbs, making him look like an toad in the headlights. The older hunter tried desperately to keep his countenance.

A second later he doubled over with laughter.

Sam gawked at him dumbfounded, as if he had lost his mind.

"Dude, you should have seen your face!" Dean hollered breathlessly. His free hand supported his weight against the door frame so he wouldn't fall over completely.

"What...?" The younger man stuttered when his brain finally caught on.

Dean was messing with him.

"You are a damned idiot, you know that?" he grumbled, not sure if he was more angry about his brother or his own embarrassing reaction.  
With a groan he dropped down on his bed, still maintaining a secure distance from the menacing blade.

"Oh sweatheart, I could never hurt you." Dean mocked as his laughter slowly subsided.

"Yeah right."

Closing the door behind him, the older hunter stepped up to the table and put the blade down. He gave his brother a provoking glance, not quite able to ban the mischief from his features.

"You gonna stay over there or do you want that thing off already?"

Greeted by nothing but a scrutinizing look Dean sighed, picked up the machete again and put it in his duffel.

"You really trust me that little?" His voice was vibrating with amusement.

"Can you blame me?" Sam grunted, recapturing his previous position at the table, plastered arm sprawled out in front of him.

Shaking his head with a huff, Dean followed his brother's example and took a seat opposite of him. His hand reached into the back of his waistband where he normally carried his gun. An unwieldy pair of scissors emerged, still wrapped up in a transparent plastic foil.

"Where did you get that from?" Sam asked with a quizzical look.

"Chemist down the street has 24-hour service. I saw it when we drove into town."

Dean unwrapped them and was just about to set to work, when his brother's other hand shot up and stopped him.

"Just...this time...be careful, ok?"

* * *

_(side note: Judging by the timeline the episode "Roadkill" is actually the next one to take place after "Playthings". But since I decided to leave that one out all together (nothing to work with, really), who cares. I'm just gonna ignore it alltogether, so there you go.)_

* * *

"What do you want to do for the night?" Dean asked over his shoulder as he threw the wrecked pair of scissors into the bin.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you wanna go to a bar or something? We could hustle some pool, find you a date." the older hunter suggested with a wink.

"It's Wednesday, Dean."

"So? It's not like we work a regular 42-hour week, as Jim the plumber."

Sam looked down at his thin and pale wrist. It felt good the be rid of the cast, but also awkwardly vulnerable. Being in a crowded place, where people literally bumped into each other didn't sound too enticing.

"Nah, I think I'd rather stay in."

Dean gave him an apprehending nod, before he turned around and reached for a brown paper bag next to the door.

"Guessed you were gonna say that." he said with a grin as he proudly pulled out a six-pack. Sam hadn't even registered the bag earlier, being on the machete.

Returning his brother's smile he got up and walked over to the pile of pamphlets that nearly every motel room had.

"Pizza?" he asked, holding up one of them.

"Hell, yeah."

* * *

They had settled down on their beds, the pizzabox on the nightstand between them, watching an episode of the Simpsons that both of them had seen before.  
Dean was happily gulping down his beer while Sam barely registered what was happening on the screen.

His thoughts kept drifting back to the night before and his inexcusable behaviour towards his brother.  
No matter which way he turned it over in his mind, the situation had just been screwed up. The whole conflict about the little innocent peck back at Rivergrove suddenly felt out of proportion.

There had been nothing innocent about this kiss. Not to mention there had been a kiss in the first place! The worst part though was, that he remembered every single detail of it. The way Dean's lips felt against his, the smell of his skin, the warmth of his breath mixing with his own. Just thinking about it made his skin tingle in a way, that scared him to death.  
His mind was racing, trying to find excuses for this new sensation but came up blank.

He loved his brother, of course. He was the only family he had left. The nightmares they faced every single day and haunted them in their sleep had made them grow closer than most brothers. He knew that. It was probably the only good thing that came out of their lifestyle. But THIS was wrong on so many levels. He wasn't even gay. Never, in his whole life had he felt attracted to men, not once! More important - Dean was his brother, for god's sake! He would die for the guy in a heartbeat, but romantic feelings had never been part of the deal!

"Spit it out." Sam nearly fell off the bed, when Dean suddenly spoke up.

"What?"

"You are thinking so loud, I can hardly hear the TV." he stated, never even taking his eyes off the screen.

Sam swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that was blocking his throat.

"It's nothing." he managed to squeeze out at last.

_'Very convincing...'_ Dean thought sarcastically.

The hunter averted his eyes from the screen to finally look at his brother. Sipping his beer, he practically had felt the dark clouds brewing over Sam's head. The level of confusion and torment in the young man's eyes took him by surprise, though.

Raising one inquiring eyebrow he simply waited for the flood of words to start.

Sam pushed himself up into a sitting position, crossing his legs Indian style.

"It's just..." He looked down at his nervously fumbling hands, not sure what to say.

"I don't know, man. Things have just been so...so weird lately."

An amused huff was to hear as Dean sat up, too. His legs hung over the side of the bed, arms braced on his thighs.

"Kind of in the job description, Sammy."

"That's not what I mean, Dean. I'm not talking about the job. I'm talking about...well, about us."

The older hunter nearly choked on his beer.

_'Please, tell me this isn't happening...'_

He didn't want to talk about this crap anymore. Hell, he didn't even want to think about it! Last night they somehow had crossed a line that he didn't even know existed. He had tried to erase it from his memory with Scotch, but some tiny part of him just couldn't stop thinking about it. So he had taken that fraction of himself and locked it into a mental curse box before he threw away the key. The feeling of Sam's hair, the taste of his lips, a million little details that were seared into his brain. A million little details he couldn't afford to remember.

Talking meant thinking. Thinking meant remembering.

He couldn't open that box.

No way.

Why couldn't his brother just pretend it never happened? Had worked fine for him - up until now, at least.

"Sam..." he tried to interrupt in a warning tone.

"Just...just listen for a second. I'm sorry about last night. I don't know what came over me and I'm sorry for...for what I did. I don't even know why I kiss..."

"Ok, stop!" Dean jumped in, holding up a hand in front of him.

"I..."

"Stop it, alright? I don't want to hear it."

"But..."

"I said no! Listen, it's been a hard couple of months. For both of us. First the thing with dad, then our own 'Dawn of the dead' remake plus Gordon's little Judgement day. I mean, no wonder a nip of Tequila turned you into an affection craving...whatever." the older hunter concluded, moving his arms in a sweeping gesture.

Sam could only stare like a carp, a bewildered expression covering his face.

The young man couldn't believe his ears. How could Dean be over this already? He had expected him to be disgusted, confused or at least angry, or...just something! Unknotting his legs, Sam slid into the same position his brother was sitting in. The tread in between the beds was rather narrow, but still offered enough space for them to face one another without their knees touching.

"So that's it? Just like that?"

"What were you expecting? You had a rain check anyway, so quit worrying about it."

Frowning he leaned forward, unbelieving eyes intent on his opposite.  
"Who are you and what have you done to my brother?"

"Extreme situations trigger extreme reactions. Just forget about it." Dean stated, leaning forward himself, to make his point.

His breath caught in his throat when he realised his mistake. Sam's face was only inches away now, his hazel eyes staring back at him in wonder. They had sat like this a million times, without any problems.

Something had changed. Something Dean didn't want to think about.

He desperately hoped that his brother couldn't hear his increasing heart rate or see the ideas that were running through his head. Every instinct screamed to pull back, but the feeling of Sam's warm breath on his face froze him in place.

The younger hunter lost all dialectic when Dean had leaned in. His palms were sweating and his pulse pounded like a jackhammer in his ears. He could only stare at the green eyes in front of him, praying to god his brother wouldn't be able to read him just this once.

"Let it go, Sam." Dean finally managed, breaking the spell as he settled back into a laying position just a bit too hasty.

The younger man stayed seated a little longer, looking over at his brother's busy form. Shaking his head he swung his long limbs back onto the bed, uncertain whether he was relieved or disappointed by the outcome of their talk.

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tbc

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flash34shrek: I agree. That was the reason why I started this in the first place. Thx!  
Kist90: my toes tingled when I read the word "fans"! Thx!  
casammy: Thank you, I'll try my best not to disappoint ^^

btw: I made a wallpaper from the newly released Season 6 pictures. It's nothing amazingly creativ, but I think it looks good. You can get it here: megaupload .com/?d=X0ACNM9A (just leave out the spaces).

Next chapter is gonna have a different style alltogether! (Nightshifter coming up)


	17. 17 Bonnie to my Clyde

Warnings: spoilers for 'Nightshifter'. MILD Wincest.

Author's Note: It's a big one! This baby has the length of 3 chapters ^^ Didn't feel right to cut it into pieces. Take it as an excuse for the long pause, since my Internet decided to die on me. But I'm back! And I brought you some steamy action. Yeeha!

Further Notice: This chapter is a little all over the place, I hope you guys are able to follow. The 'flashbacks' are scenes from the episode 'Nightshifter', while the other parts are set directly after it. I'm playing around with some new stuff here, would really love to hear what you think about it. Especially Dean's first flashback.

BTW: Ok guys, also gotta do a little advertising here. I just got into the show 'Dexter'. Man, that story and character is so twisted and hilarious in a morbid way. Check it out, if you find the time, really worth it, if you can stand the sight of blood ^^

Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.

Playlist: Rooster - Alice In Chains

Haltet die Welt an (= Stop the world) - Glashaus

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 17: Bonnie to my Clyde**

Trees were racing by as the Impala fled through the night. No other car was to be seen on the deserted side road Dean had picked to get them out of Milwaukee without being detected. Sam was currently in the backseat, struggling to take off the SWAT uniform. Since stopping the car was out of question with Hendriksen and his minions on their tail, an awkward climb past his brother underlined by a lot of swearing had been his only chance to get out of the uncomfortably sticking suit.

"What the hell are you doing back there?" The drivers annoyed voice asked, as he turned his head slightly towards the rumbling noises behind him.

"This thing...clings...like a bitch. Argh!" Sam grunted as he hit his head on the roof for about the third time.

Dean was already on edge as it was. His eyes frequently flickered from the dark asphalt ahead to the rearview mirror, making sure they weren't followed. Not for the first time he had to wipe one of his hands on his overall to get rid of the cold sweat from gripping the steering wheel a little too tight.

Sam wasn't in any better condition. He caught himself looking out of the backwindow every few seconds, as he stashed the suit on the seat beside him. Careful not to disturb Dean while driving he squeezed himself over the backrest of the passenger seat.

"I still can't get over the mess Ronald got us in." he said through gritted teeth, while his arms searched for a place to support his weight. "I mean, what did he expect storming a bank like that?"

"Maybe if someone hadn't gone all Agent Scully instead of Mulder on the man none of this would have happened." The older hunter stated in an agitated tone.

With a thump that rocked the car Sam collapsed into his seat, glaring at his brother.

"Gee, thanks Dean. I'll remember to be more sympathetic the next time we run into a guy that takes my brother hostage while pointing an automatic in my face."

Dean closed his eyes with a sigh. Sam was right. No one could have foreseen Ronald would take matters into his own, admittedly somewhat crazy hands in such a drastic way. If anyone was to blame for today's events it would be the shifter, or maybe even Ronald himself. But it was hard to blame someone you had just watched dying.

They were facing death every day, but seeing a human getting shot wasn't anything one could get used to. Especially when the victim was on their own team and depending on their lead. He had seen it in Sam's eyes back at the bank. Had recognized the sameremorse and pain he was feeling.

"I'm sorry. It's just..."

"I know." Sam interrupted him. Swallowing loudly when he thought about Ronald's pale body lying on the cold marble floor.

"Just forget about it."

* * *

(flashback)

* * *

He should have known. Should have gotten suspicious the very second they reviewed Ronald's excellent research material back at the motel. This case had just been too easy to be true. Too much luck, too many things going right.

They were Winchesters. Lucky days weren't really part of the family crest.

Ronald had unknowingly done all the research they needed, turning this goose chase into a simple point and shoot. Thanks to him they could jump right into action.  
Get in the bank, find the shifter, get out and follow him home.

Easy as breathing.

And breathing space was exactly what they had needed after their last case. It had been a week since Cornwall and they still were struggling with the aftermath. Dean hardly even looked at him, though he otherwise behaved like his usual carefree self, which annoyed Sam to no end. He had always been able to look past the mask Dean wore whenever things were slipping out of his hands. Only nuances were different, but to Sam it stuck out like a sore thumb. More mocking, sharper jokes, grins that didn't quite reach his eyes. Therefor he couldn't help but snap when his brother started to tease him about Ronald.

"What are you, pissed at me or something?"

Unimpressed Dean took a seat at the round table nearby. Plans of the sewer system were spread out before him, as he put down his beer on the only free spot left.

"No, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a Fed you are."

Sam just focused his attention back to the screen, not really believing a word that came out of his brother's mouth right now. Any other day Dean would have agreed with him. Would have understood why he had lied to the man.

"I mean, come on, we could have at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here."

"Mandroid?"

The older hunter hesitated, meeting Sam's eyes for only a second before he quickly looked back down at the paperwork.

"Except for the mandroid part. I liked him. He's not that different from you or me, people think we're crazy."

That was it. He had no problem with his brother rambling on about meaningless things all day to avoid what was really going on, but this was getting ridicules.

"Yeah, except he's not a hunter, Dean. He's just a guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing he'd get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark, and stay alive."

He couldn't help the anger that filtered into his voice. Dean normally was the one insisting on keeping people oblivious about the things that were out there. It seemed as if right now, no matter which side Sam took, his brother would go for the exact opposite, making sure there always was a safety distance between them. They were unbalanced, slightly off their game.  
Good thing this case would be simple.

* * *

(flashback end)

* * *

"Oh crap." Dean swore as his phone started ringing. Problem was that said phone was stuck into his jeans pocket underneath the heavy overall he still wore.

"How the hell am I supposed to...argh..." Keeping one hand on the steering wheel he fumbled with the straps on his chest, trying to reach for the zipper underneath.  
Smoke on the water was still whispering through the fabric when he finally managed to open it, his brother's amused look embarrassing him even further.

"What exactly are you doing?" Sam asked, unable to hide the grin in his voice.

"It's my phone." the older hunter grunted through clenched teeth.

"Just let it go to voicemail."

"And if it is important?" Dean's voice was serious, as his hand continued fumbling for the mobile unsuccessfully. Most of the tension from earlier was gone, but they weren't out of the woods yet.

"Like what? Hendriksen asking if we want to meet him for breakfast?"

Dean threw him a glare.

"Finally found your sense of humour there, College boy?"

"Whatever." Sam answered with a grin.

Smoke on the water stopped somewhere in the first verse and the younger hunter settled back into a hunched position that was nearly comfortable. They had been driving for four hours straight and the day's excitement was slowly taking it's toll on both of them. Dean would probably make it another three or four hours before they would risk ending up curved like a pretzel around a tree. Better to get some shut eye before it was his turn to drive. Folding his arms over his chest he leaned his head against the cool window and slipped into a light slumber.

* * *

(flashback)

* * *

"I'll shoot you! Get down!"

Sam had noticed the short glance his brother gave him before he got up. As if to tell him, that everything would be alright, that he would take care of things so noone else got hurt in the crossfire. Right now Sam couldn't care about anyone else though. The only person in this room that mattered was the man beside him.  
Every cell in his body screamed for him to do something, to get Ronald's attention away from his brother, but Dean was right. No way in hell this maniac was going to listen to a word Sam said, not after their last encounter.  
Grinding his teeth together he remained on his knees, ready to jump in front of the other hunter if needed. He had been close to loosing his brother before, too close. He wouldn't let a simple bullet do the deed. Not today, not ever.

"Take me." Dean's words froze his heart mid-beat.

This wasn't happening.

He couldn't seriously expect Sam to just stand by and do nothing. Let his brother go off with this lunatic, out of sight, out of reach. Their stupid fight from earlier suddenly seemed so meaningless. It were the moments they got separated that things went to hell. They were a double deal, not working without the other.

"Take me with you, take me as a hostage. But we've gotta act fast. Because the longer we just sit here the more time he has to change."

The younger hunter could see the second Ronald made a decision. The same second that he realised just how helpless he was.

"All right. You come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault!"

Closing his eyes Sam started to pray.

* * *

(flashback end)

* * *

With a start Sam snapped awake when a hand tapped against his chest.

"Hey, rise and shine, sleeping beauty." Dean mocked in a calm voice.

"What? Do you want me to drive?" The young man asked, looking around a little confused, trying to get his bearings back after his nap.

"No, not yet. Just need your help to get this damned phone out of my pocket."

"Hm?" Sam stretched his tense muscles. Maybe he should have stayed in the back to stretch out, but somehow he felt more comfortable in the front, where he could see Dean.

"Whoever this is, it seems to be important. Called a second time. So you gonna help me, or what? I can't reach..."

"Alright, where is it?"

Keeping his eyes on the road, the older hunter petted his left hip, indicating his jeans pocket underneath.

With a yawn Sam inched closer and pulled open the front of the overall. His right hand reached across his brother's chest to where the suit pressed against the man's side.

"Dude, I can't see!" Dean complained as he straightened up to look past his brother's ruffed up hair.

"Yeah, well you couldn't pick a pocket farther away from me, could you?" Sam grunted. He drew back a little, bringing his head on level with Dean's, trying to stay out of his line of vision. His nose was nearly touching the other's cheek, before the older hunter leaned away to bring some distance between them.

"Ok, this is awkward." Dean stated as he desperately tried not to react to the warm hand sliding down to his waist. Sometimes his hormone overcharged body really was a curse. He had promised himself to let this...whatever it was...to just let it go. Never think of it again. Swallowing down the lump in his throat he hoped Sam couldn't feel the increase of his pulse the very second the hand came into contact with him. Things definitely had changed between them. He had felt it back at the bank, though not quite as strong. They had patched each other up so many times in the past and his body had never reacted to any of it. Not like this. His hands were sweating again and his breathing turned shallow.

"Shut up and drive." The young man mumbled as his fingers found the rough fabric of his brother's trousers. Now that his brain had caught up with the current situation, his throat constricted in a way that made him really uncomfortable.  
The angle was all wrong, so that he had to lean in further to reach inside the pocket. Dean's body radiated heat like an oven, making Sam want to move in even closer. The way his arm was pressed against the other man's chest made it impossible to tell who's racing heartbeat he was feeling at the moment. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm himself, regretting it immediately. The older hunter smelled of earth, leather and...home. It took all the strength he had not to follow the impulse to just lean in and...He closed his eyes for a second to fight for control. This couldn't be happening, not again.

Dean desperately tried to calm his own breathing, tried to think of anything but the warm air tickling his neck or the careful hand which seemed currently frozen on his hipbone. Unable to stop himself, he felt his head turn towards his brother degree by degree. His mind went completely blank when he could taste Sam's warm breath on his lips, just inches separating them now. The fingers crawled further down and into the tight pocket, making him tilt his hip to grant easier access.

"You gotta be kidding me!"

Dean nearly jumped out of his skin at Sam's sudden exclamation, making the Impala sway dangerously off their side of the road, as his head snapped back.

"What? What did I do?" He asked as he hastily steered the car back on track, feeling more than glad that it was dark. His face felt way too warm to be it's usual colour.

"It's not in here!" Sam complained as he settled back into the secure distance of his side. His breathing was still laboured, but Dean was too busy calming his own to notice.

"What? It's got to be...I...Oh crap. I think it's in the back one."

"And you couldn't tell me that before?"

"Hey, it's not my fault. I usually got it in this one. It's a miracle I heard the thing in the first place, anyway. You could have a frigging rockband practise inside of this suit without anyone noticing."

"How am I supposed to reach that?"

"You don't!" Dean jumped in a little too loud. No way he was going to let his brother anywhere near him again, not after this. Way to dangerous in such a tight, secluded environment. Just not happening.

Noticing the bewildered look on Sam's face the older man cleared his throat.

"I mean...if I'm right, we should be reaching some forests soon. We could.. head for one of the cartway, make a short stop, you know?"

Sam's expression softened a little bit.

"Yeah, ok...I guess."

* * *

(flashback)

* * *

He had felt it before. Every time he watched his little brother run off alone into the unknown, into danger. Never quite sure if this was the last time. It was part of their job, sure. They couldn't work fused together by the hip, though that was a tempting thought.

A part of him wished he could just lock Sam up in the vault again, keep him safe. Make sure he wouldn't be called responsible for any of this if things went down the drain.

_'Bonnie to your Clyde'_

Hendriksen had no idea how right he was. He needed his brother, probably more than the other way around. There had been a few years he worked alone, but it had never felt quite right. Sam on the other hand had never wanted part in any of this. Always trying too fit in, to be normal. To get away from the crazy world their father had raised them into. On this case though, the real threat wasn't the crazy, the supernatural. Right now, the danger came from the normal people out there.

Spirits, demons, they all followed a certain pattern. People were the ones that proofed to be unpredictable. They didn't care if you drew a devil's trap or poured a circle of salt around you. They couldn't be killed without a little part of yourself dying in the process. Because they were actual people. Like him and Sam.

Only they didn't understand why the two of them did the things they did. Couldn't grasp the concept of them being the god guys in all of this. To them, they were the monsters. And right now that concluded in a SWAT team shooting anything that moved.

Like Ronald.

Seeing him drop had made the danger so much more real. You just had to reach out to feel how thick the air was with death, making Dean's stomach coil.

When Sam came up beside him, crouched behind the cold marble counter, all he wanted to do was to get him somewhere save. Somewhere where none of this could touch him.

The warm shoulder pressed against him made it possible to breathe again. He had felt it before, but something had changed. His brother wasn't a snot nosed twelve-year old anymore. He was a grown man now, capable of taking care of himself and others. Sometimes even Dean. Before he could form another thought a little key was slipped into his hand.

"Here. Take care of the guard. I'm going after the shifter."

With that Sam took off, keeping close to the shadows, hiding from the normal people, that were out there. Dean wanted to go after him, to pull him back to where he could protect him. However he knew he had to let him go. Somehow it was sad to see how easily his tall shape vanished into the dark. Not the way his little brother used to move, but like a man who was born for this.

He had felt it before.  
Every time he watched this guy take off into the unknown. All Dean could do now was hope.

Hope that this wouldn't be the last time.

* * *

(flashback end)

* * *

"What are we gonna do with these?" Sam asked, nodding his head towards the SWAT uniforms on the backseat.

Dean looked up from his phone and considered the indication for a second.

"Don't know. Guess we'll just have to dump them out here. It's not like we really need them. They do look pretty awesome, though."

"I don't know about that. I could hardly move in mine." As if to emphasize the statement he stretched his arms, to ease the tension that had build up on the long drive. Dean involuntary swallowed when he noticed the flexing muscles underneath the young man's tight shirt.

"Guess they didn't consider gigantor as a size." he shot back with a toothy grin, trying to mask his reaction and earning one of Sam's bitchfaces.  
Glancing over at the trunk he added: "Wouldn't mind to keep the rifle, though. That thing is definitely Tom Clancy."

"And about as wieldy as a broadsword on a plane." The younger hunter commented as he heaved the uniforms out of the car.

"You really know how to bring down the roof, don't you?"

Discounting the comment with a shrug Sam dragged the heavy garments towards the treeline of the narrow dirt road they were currently parked on.

"Who called you earlier?"

"Bobby. Guess he watched the news. Hey, don't get lost out there. I had about enough excitement for the day." Dean called out while pressing the call button.

"Yeah, whatever." the younger men's strained voice called back.

* * *

(flashback)

* * *

He looked down at the shapeshifter's corpse. How he hated those frigging things. Not only were they stronger than most humans and sneaky sons of bitches, they also played with your mind. It was hard not to think of them as the people they pretended to be.

Dean knelt down, letting his eyes wander over Sherry's innocent features. The girl that had pictured him as her personal knight in shining armor not long ago. It still amazed him how Sam had been able to figure out the shifter back at Saint Louis so fast. The resemblance was unbelievable. It made his skin crawl.

Suddenly steps appeared behind him.  
Dean spun around, staring into the flashlight of a SWAT agent.

_Crap_.

Slowly raising his hands in defeat his eyes searched for an escape route like a caged animal. He had to get out of here, had to get to Sam, but he was trapped.  
The tall man was blocking the only exit.  
He started to get up as careful as possible, ready to bolt at any given moment.

_Please, let Sammy be ok._

The agent stepped closer, throwing a dark bundle in front of Dean's feet. Intuitively the hunter jumped back. Confused he looked from the big pile towards the tall stranger.

"Come on already, we don't have much time!" a familiar voice called out, muffled by the helmet the men wore.  
It took Dean's brain a second to catch up.

"Sam?"

"Yes, damn it. Get your ass in there! We need to be out of here like ten minutes ago!" he pressed on, pointing at the bundle Dean just then recognized to be another uniform.  
Not waisting any more time the older hunter set to work, while Sam stood watch at the door.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack, bitch." Dean grunted as he hastily pushed his arms into the heavy suit.

Though he couldn't see his brother's face through the headgear the smile was clearly audible in his voice when he answered:

"Save the thanks for later, jerk. We aren't out of the woods yet."

* * *

(flashback end)

* * *

Sam's fading steps and the ringing sound were the only noises disturbing the silence, as the older hunter waited for the call to connect. He still couldn't believe they had made it out of there. Calm settled over him, as he leaned against the Impala's cool frame. A second later his eardrum nearly ripped when Bobbie's rough voice hollered into the line.

"I could throttle you!"

"Wow, Bobby calm down!" Dean jumped in, holding the phone at a save distance from his pounding ear.

"Calm down? Your stupid face greets me from every damned channel and you expect me to sit here with my thumb up my ass and wait till your highness 's willing to answer the phone? Who the hell you think I am, boy?"

"Bobby, listen..."

"Do I sound like I'm done? Next time I call you, you better damned pick up the phone, you understand?"

Dean had to swallow before he found his voice again. He felt like a five-year-old, standing there alone in the dark.

"Yes, sir."

A sigh sounded through the phone. He could just about imagine the old hunter standing in his library with a hand pinching his nosebridge to rail in his temper.

"What did you two idjits get yourself into this time?"

"Long story involving a money grubbing shapeshifter and a hunter-of-the-year wannabee with a gun that tried to take the sucker down himself."

"So just the usual, then."

Letting out a relieved chuckle the young man felt his shoulders relax.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Now listen, that's some serious trouble you two ran into. If you need anything, just let me know, you got that?"

"Bobby, thanks. But we can't really show our faces near the salvage yard any time soon, in case someone at the FBI found out about our favourite drinking company..."

"You done buttering me up? Considering the fanclub you got tailing your asses, I assumed as much. I talked to an old friend of mine. He owns a small cabin in Iowa, far off from, well, pretty much everything. If you boys wanna stay there for a few nights until things have cooled down, I can give you the address."

"Yeah, that would be...thanks Bobby."

"Don't mention it."

"You don't happen to know if they deliver pizza out there?"

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tbc

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Ok, I'm really dying for opinions about the Dean's first flashback. Too out of tone in comparison to the usual style? No idea where it came from, just felt right. Did you like the structure of the chapter at all or would you prefer me to never do it again?

The idea for the cabin came out of nowhere. First the call was about Bobby getting them new number plates, until I realized that they didn't change them this time...grrrr. Well, now we have a cabin ^^

Again, sorry for the long hold up! Next chapter will be up by tomorrow!

Hugs to TwinchesterAngel (you are amazing) and Kist90!


	18. 18 Lonely Soldiers

Warnings: spoilers for 'Nightshifter'. MILD Wincest.

Author's Note: I'm really proud of this chapter. Not everything worked out perfectly, but I like the main mood and meaning. Hope it comes across! This was one of the chapter's that just came out of nowhere while writing. I like them the best.

Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.

Playlist: Let's get lost - Tina Dico feat. Mark Weston (one of the most beautiful songs ever)

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 18: Lonely Soldiers**

Dean's eyes wandered from his beer over to his brother, who was sitting beside him on the hood of the Impala. They had decided to stay off the road for now and head to the cabin just after nightfall the next day. It was already past midnight and since their car was anything but inconspicuous, checking into a motel would have been too risky anyway.

The older hunter scrubbed a hand across his face, trying to clear his mind.  
A cabin. With just the two of them.

_So not good..._

It was always just the two of them, so why couldn't he fight the feeling that this would be a big mistake? No matter how hard he tried to deny it, something was different between them. Dean didn't know when exactly the change had taken place, but he could feel it in every cell of his body. Things had been set into motion months ago at Rivergrove, maybe even long before that. After Cornwell he had sworn himself to forget about the topic. Locked it up deep inside his head and heart.

Their last case though somehow had changed everything. All of a sudden not only the supernatural, but also the real world had turned against them. This was foreign territory for both of them, leaving them vulnerable. More than ever they relied on one another, making it nearly impossible to keep up any kind of charade or mental curse box.  
And with every minute that ticked by he could feel himself slipping. The little incident earlier in the car had proven that.  
Not being in control around Sam scared him more than Hendriksen's bloodhounds on their tail.

"Think we gonna make it?" Sam's calm voice interrupted the silence as the younger hunter leaned back on one arm, eyes glued to the already fading stars above.

Dean pushed back his dark thoughts and tried to relax.  
"Guess we'll have to find out."

Out of the corner of his eye he could see his brother's mouth curve up into a smile.

"What, no the-devil-may-care speech?"

With a chuckle the older hunter lowered his head. Dragging his fingers through his short hair he couldn't help but return the smile.

"Nah, not in the mood right now."

These easy moments had grown scarce between them. With all the talk of destiny and death looming over their heads it was actually kind of funny that a bank robbery should help them to find their way back to it. It seemed as if all the tension, the pain and the fear washed away for the time being, giving them a much needed break from the chaos their life was these days.

"You were right, you know?" Sam pointed out as he took a sip of his beer.

Dean raised a questioning eyebrow when he met the other man's eyes.

"About what you said earlier. That people believe we are the crazy ones. Well, it got me thinking."

"That's never good." Dean grinned.

"Usually, there are at least one or two normal people involved in a case, right? People that don't know what is really out there in the dark until they run into it. Like...Susan and Tyler or the guy we saved from the crossroads deal."

"What's your point?" Strangely the seriousness of the topic didn't disturb Dean's relaxed mood at all. For the first time in a long time he just felt at ease.

"My point is, back at the bank we were on our own. The cops, the hostages, the shifter, everyone thought us to be the bad guys. The only person on our team was a lunatic with a rifle."

A laugh erupted from the older hunter at Sam's description of their unusual partner in crime.

"Come on, Ronald wasn't that crazy. I mean, he might have watched Terminator one too many times, but he was a good guy."

Sam couldn't help but smile as well as he continued his explanation.

"Yes, he was, but he also wasn't...well...what you'd consider normal. Dean, the FBI waited just outside the doors to take us into custody because of him!"

"So, what are you getting at? That these people were right? That we really are nutjobs on the loose?"

"No, of course not."

Sam's voice suddenly turned serious.

"But it made me realize something. With the way dad raised us...Everything we've seen and done, it made us...different to them. What we do...what we are... we don't fit in anymore. There is no going back to normal. Not really, at least. Not as Sam and Dean Winchester."

The older hunter met his brother's eyes as he took in the meaning of his words.

_'Normal'_

Different to Sam, he never really got the chance to experience 'normal', leave out the first four years of his life. Being led by his father he had never questioned the rightness of it. But his dad was gone. Forever. Leaving him to carry the burden of his legacy.

Sometimes his whole existence felt based on one thing and one thing only. Wasting the bastard, that had taken his mother from them. That evil son of of a bitch that also killed the man he had looked up to and now threatened to take his brother from him.  
If keeping Sammy save meant, that he would never lead a normal life, so be it. He didn't care.

Of course there were moments when this life made him tired. So tired that he didn't remember how to get up in the morning. The weight on his shoulders would hold him down, no matter how hard he wrestled against it.

And then, all of a sudden someone would nudge his foot. A voice would pierce through the numbness and tell him to get his ass out of bed. Fighting his eyes open he would see an unruly mop of hair bustle through one of the faceless motel rooms, that all looked the same. The reason why he had to keep on fighting, why he would get up just like any other morning, why he'd never choose any other life over this crappy one.

_Sam._

_

* * *

_

"I'm getting too old for this."

Sam turned his head towards the muffled voice of his brother who was currently sprawled out across the front seats.

"Is that even comfortable?" the younger man asked as he took in the crocked position of his companion.

"Well, since someone else is currently occupying the backseat..."

"You were the one that threw scissors."

"Shut up."

With a grin Sam turned over and tried to find a position he wouldn't regret in the morning. It had been years since he last slept on the backseat of the Impala. Usually they would just crash at a motel or take short naps while the other one was driving.

"Your car is too small." he mumbled when he finally gave up his impossible quest.

"You are just too freakishly tall."

"Sure you didn't just rebuild it...wrong? Never used to be this..."

"Nothing is wrong with my car! Just...go to sleep, before I shoot you."

Silence settled over them, only interrupted by an occasional rustle of fabric whenever Dean decided that lying still wasn't worth cutting off the circulation to one of his limbs.

Sam was staring at the beige-coloured ceiling, unable to put his mind at rest. So many things were changing.  
For many years he had wanted to become a lawyer. To help people, not by shooting guns or throwing knives, but out there, in what he thought to be the real world. Somewhere where he wouldn't have to fear for his life every waking second. Now even that safety net was gone. Lost somewhere along the way, just as so many other things he had pictured his life to be.

For some reason though, the regret and pain he had expected to feel wouldn't set in. If anything, he felt relieved. Relieved that there was no either or anymore.  
He couldn't go back. Jess was gone... and with the way things had turned out he finally understood that the old Sam had died, many months ago, burned up on the ceiling of his apartment. This was his life now, beside the only person he had left.

Lost in thought Sam's arm reached up towards the ashtray behind his head, like he had done so many times when he was little. For as long as he could remember his old toy soldier had been stuck in it. At least until the accident that nearly totalled the car all together - and their lives with it.  
Somehow the small guy had always comforted him. Like a guardian angel, keeping watch whenever his family would take off on a hunt.  
Even without opening his eyes his fingers immediately found the exact spot the soldier would have... Sam's hand froze. Tilting his head back as far as it would go he stared wide eyed at the little green man between his fingers.

"You put him back." he whispered breathlessly before he could stop himself.

"What?" his brother groaned, voice heavy with sleep.

Swallowing down the lump that was forming in his throat he tried again.

"My...the toy soldier. You put it back in."

"Oh that."

There wasn't a single noise to be heard until Dean continued, sounding more sincere than Sam would have expected.

"Just didn't feel right without the little guy watching our backs."

Maybe it was childish, maybe even stupid, but for some reason the look of the small soldier in it's righteous place made Sam realize something. It didn't really matter that evil was holding all the cards, or how bad things would turn out in the future. Not even what went down between the two of them. As long as both of them made sure the little guy stayed in position, watching over them, they always had a place to come home to.

"Hey Dean?"

"Hm?"

"Thanks."

"Yeah. Get some sleep, Samantha."

Maybe some things never changed.

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tbc

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Thanks to all of my reviewers! (You know who you are ^^) You guys keep me going and give me a feel for my own work. Love you all!

Next up is the cabin! Haven't started on that one yet, especially since I'm biting my nails for 6x10 tonight, but I think you'll have it in the next couple of days.


	19. 19 At the foot of the stairs

Warnings: Wincest.

Author's Note: OMG! 'Caged Heat' was amazing! Dean's look whenever a demon took the piss out of him, all business RoboSam, porno watching Cas and double Crowley! Just...wow. I really didn't see this one coming. Or the wrist-biting scene, I was just like WTF? And the last scene...*melt* Of course I miss tortured, puppy eyed Sammy, but I just love the new season! I hope Sam keeps his new sense of humor when he gets his soul back. Hope they have one episode where Sam is all wrecked from hell before they fix him. Loved the detox scenes back in the panic room.

BTW: according to the timeline this here is **set in early January**

Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.

Playlist: Heartbeats - Jose Gonzales

Set Free - Katie Gray

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 19: At the foot of the stairs**

They reached the cabin well past dawn after travelling the country roads for hours. Sam was more than glad to finally get out of the car. There was only so much Motörhead a person could listen to. Especially when your brother grunted along for hours.

His joints popped back into their destined positions as he stretched his aching body. Dean was already at the trunk of the Impala, grabbing the heavy paper bags that covered the worn out interior. He had gone a little overboard when Sam had suggested to stock up on supplies a few towns over.

'At least we won't starve in case we get snowed in...' the young man thought amused as he watched his brother wrestle with the overflowing bags, that could feed a full grown family for about a week.

"You need a hand there, glutton?"

"Nah, I'm good." Dean replied in a strained voice as he protectively carried his dainties towards the porch of the little wooden cabin.

Sam shook his head as he grabbed their duffels and followed his brother's steps through the crunching snow covering the ground.

The cabin wasn't exactly a five star hotel, but they'd had worse. A tank outside provided constant water which was freezing, but drinkable. The retreat even had basic facilities and a kitchen that offered everything they needed to cook up warm meals. The sleeping accommodations were a whole different deal though.

"Guess Bobby's friend doesn't get a lot of visitors here." Dean pointed out as he glanced uneasy at time-worn double bed by the far wall.

Sam followed his line of vision and swallowed. Back when they were little they always used to sleep in the same bed, when their father wasn't off on a hunt. Being tight on cash didn't leave them much of a choice and even later the youngest Winchester would sometimes sneak into his brother's bed in the middle of the night. Dean's nearby presence had always helped to ease Sam's nightmares that started about the same time he was old enough to comprehend the real reason for his father's absence days at a time. However, that had been years ago and with the way things were between them these days he couldn't fight the unwelcome feeling creeping up his spine.

When Sam realized that he had been staring at the bed awkwardly long, he cleared his throat and quickly dropped their bags near the little stove in the center of the room.

"I...I saw some firewood out back. I'll better go get some." he rambled on as he hastily retreated from the room.

Dean gaped after him.

_'This ought to be a relaxing few days...'_

_

* * *

_

With a defeated sigh Sam finally gave up. This was useless. After nearly one hour of searching for a spot in the cabin that would allow him to access the Internet, he stuffed his laptop back into the leather bag next to the bed. They had been at the cabin for only a few hours and already he was bored. He wasn't usually big of a TV fan, but right now he would have given anything for a rerun of MythBusters or even one of the bad slapstick shows Dean liked so much.  
The young man let his eyes wander around the little cabin. Now that they had a fire going it was actually rather cosy in here. Dim light fell through the milky windows, casting away the shadows that danced on the wooden walls as the flames licked at the iron grid of the stove.

Pushing his bangs out of his face Sam stepped into the small kitchen nook to get himself some of the coffee his brother had made earlier. Noticing the pot to be empty he bit back a curse. Dean had been chugging the stuff since their arrival to stay awake. Driving all night for the last couple of days had screwed up their daily rhythm, bringing out the caffeine-addict in the both of them.  
Where was the guy, anyway?  
His phone was lying on the narrow counter, so he couldn't be far.

Grabbing his grey jacket Sam stepped out into the cool air, nearly stumbling over his brother, that was sitting on the narrow porch just outside the door.

"Wow!" Dean burst out, as he reflexively held up his steaming coffee mug to keep it from sloshing over.

"Easy there, tiger."

"Sorry." Sam apologized, as he closed the door behind him.

Dean turned his head towards the tall figure, giving him a knowing grin.  
"Let me guess, already running up the walls?"

"My phone has reception, but I can't seem to get the Internet working out here."

"And people mistake me for the unbalanced one." the older man mumbled as he returned his attention back to his drink.

Without looking up he moved over a bit, indicating for his brother to have a seat. Sam didn't hesitate long to follow the invitation.

"Want some?" Dean offered, raising his drink towards his companion.

Accepting the steaming cup, the young man took a careful sip. The hot liquid filled his mouth, making him cough in surprise as the strong taste of vodka burned his throat.

"What the...Are you Russian? It's the middle of the day!" he complained as Dean laughingly gave his back a couple of solid taps to help him regain his composure.

"Only way to stay warm out here, bro."

"Actually...alcohol just gives you a false sense of warmth. It expands your blood vessels, which causes your body to cool off even faster."

The older hunter regarded him as if he had just admitted to come from another planet.

"You done?"

Sam suddenly felt selfconscious under his brother's raised eyebrow.  
"I think so." he sheepishly replied, taking another slow sip.

Dean leaned back on his hands as he crossed his outstretched legs at the ankles.

"You know, this place isn't half bad." he proclaimed, letting his eyes wander over the snow covered trees surrounding the small clearing.

"Maybe we should have a late Christmas. I mean, we didn't really get to have one last year."

Now it was Sam's turn to look dumbfounded. Dean was usually the one that didn't give a damn about holidays.

"You serious?" the young man asked in a disbelieving tone.

"Nah, not really." Dean admitted after a second of thought.

A contagious smirk spread across his face as he met the other man's eyes for a second. He knew Sam had guessed the answer even before he had asked the question. They knew each other inside out after growing up and spending so much time on the road together. With all they had been through he sometimes wondered if his brother might actually know him better than he did himself.

"I give you two days, tops, by the way."

The older hunter looked up again, trying to steer his thoughts back to the conversation.

"What was that?"

"Two days. Not a minute longer and you will be so bored out of your skull that you'll beg to get out of here."

"And how do you know that?" the older hunter asked amused while leaning over to retrieve his drink.

"Because I know you."

Dean's hand froze in it's current position on the mug, when Sam vocalised the exact same thing he had been thinking only seconds earlier. The calm and sincerity in his voice hit him off guard, taking his breath away as he stared at his brother's honest face.

Sam's look never wavered when he realised that his words had apparently meant something to Dean. His skin tingled where their fingers touched and he could feel his pulse speeding up, just like back in the car. Out of nowhere their easy banter had turned into something else, something he didn't know how to handle. Every time he thought he had banished these feelings from his thoughts, turned away from this, they would be waiting just around the corner, stronger than before. When Dean suddenly moved in a fraction of an inch, his breath caught in anticipation and heart-wrenching fear.

The look on Sam's face felt like the reflection in a mirror that was at the same time too close and too far out of reach for his eyes to focus. Dean had no idea what he was doing as he leaned in, but stopped himself immediatly, even though his body fought against him. His heart was stuck in his throat, trying to drown out his brain and making his head spin with nausea. He wanted this. Wanted to get closer. Needed to get away as fast as possible. More than anything ever before. His breathing was laboured as every cell in his body seemed to be vibrating.  
It felt as if his sanity was being ripped apart, pulled into two different directions he might never scrape together again.

_'Oh, screw it'_

In one fluid motion Dean crossed the distance between them, throwing all caution to the wind as he gently captured Sam's lips with his own, putting it all out there. All the fear, the doubt, the hope and all the need.  
Adrenaline pumped through his veins like fire, undecided whether to warm or burn him.  
Keeping his eyes closed tightly he pulled back a little, leaving scarcely a breath between them. Begging his brother wordlessly to be alright with this, giving him a choice.  
Time seemed to stretch on, their heavy breathing counting the seconds, lips almost touching.  
And just when Dean thought he couldn't bear it anymore a warm hand enveloped his cheek, pulling him back in.

They had kissed twice before, but Sam hadn't been prepared for this. This was different. This was them. No looming destiny, no immediate danger, just the two of them.

His body tingled with anxiety when he recaptured Dean's mouth. Their lips melted together, spreading warmth throughout his entire body, making his head spin. Chucking the mug aside he grasped for his brother's collar, pulling him closer. His heart sped up even further when he felt Dean's tongue ghost over his lips, making his mind go completely blank. Sam felt like he was drowning, holding on to anything he could find.

Dean's hand grabbed the younger man's neck, leaving no space between them, making it impossible to tell who was breathing for whom. Pushing his brother back against the wooden railing behind him he desperately tried to get closer, but no matter how hard he leaned into the touch, he just couldn't seem to get close enough. His breathing was embarrassing loud, but he didn't care. All he cared about was here, right in front of him.

When they finally came up for air, Sam rested his forehead against his brother's, noses nearly touching. The young man's chest was heaving in time with Dean's, as he pressed his eyes shut.

He didn't want this moment to end, but somewhere in between his mind had started working again.

"Dean..." Sam's voice was hoarse, barely more than a whisper.

"what are we doing here?"

The older man swallowed as he tried to get his breathing under control.

"I have absolutely no idea."

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tbc

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Gosh, that kiss took me hours...hope it was worth it.

I'm sitting here with a bowl of caramel ice cream and a steaming cup of Cappuccino (without vodka) while it is snowing outside of my window. Sometimes I really love winter ^^

Thx again too my sweet reviewers! Love you guys too!


	20. 20 Playing with open cards

Warnings: Mild Wincest.

Author's Note: Wow guys, we made it to chapter 20! And still no end to be seen. One Chap for every year I have lived. Squeal! Who would have thought we'd make it till here? I surely didn't. **Big hugs to all readers and chocolate to the diligent reviewers**! Love you!^^ Well, I wanted this to be the big kiss chapter, but I just couldn't help myself last time...I'm sorry. Hope it didn't seem rushed. But this chapter is really important for the next episode. I like 'Houses of the Holy', but concerning this story I really hated it. Re-watched it 3 times to finally get a feel for how to build up wincest for it...damned there goes my day.

Further Notice: Sorry that it took so long, but I didn't have time to write, since I went to Hamburg for the week with a friend to see Kings of Leon live. *melt*

BTW: Wasn't episode 6x11 amazing? I couldn't stop squealing! And the cliffhanger...AAAARGH! Since my mind wouldn't stop spinning back to it I decided on giving a little FF a go. So in case you are interested, feel welcome to read. It's tiny atm, but I had to finish this chapter here.

Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.

Playlist: Fight Song - The Republic Tigers

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 20: Playing with open cards**

The moment Sam woke up he immediately regretted it. His back hurt as if someone had used him as a snowboard and his arms were stiff from resting on them all night.  
Sometimes he really wished he was twenty again, as stupid as it might have sounded considering his young age. Back in his first years at Stanford it had never bothered him to fall asleep on his books after a long night of homework and essays.

Slowly lifting his head from the hard table he squinted against the too bright morning light from the nearby window.  
His eyes lazily scanned the room for a sign of life, landing on the softly snoring form of his brother. Dean's head was hanging over the backrest of the cabins only armchair, feet put up on the low kitchen counter. Next to him stood the half empty bottle of vodka, just barely out of reach of his slack fingers.

Apparently Sam hadn't been to only one who found himself incapable of getting a good nights rest. None of them had been able to look, let alone come anywhere near each other or the only bed in the room.

After yesterday's...incident, they had practically bolted into opposite directions. The younger hunter had mumbled something about books he left in the trunk, while his brother simply resigned to pickle himself in his liquor.

Remembering his last bender just a little too vividly, Sam didn't have the luxury of tuning out his ever reeling thoughts. Instead he had ended up turning things over in his mind until his head was spinning even without the alcohol.

What they were doing was wrong. Socially unacceptable. Abnormal quite honestly he couldn't remember a time when their lives hadn't been abnormal.  
The rational thing would be to take a step back, wait till the waves had calmed down and return to their old routine. Just two brothers on the road.  
No one besides them knew about their extracurricular activities, so no harm done.

However, a part of him refused to go back. And this part was growing louder and stronger with every unintentional touch, each lingering glance.

Maybe it really was for the best to simply sit this one out. They just couldn't do this, couldn't go this far. It wasn't right.

But there was no one there to stop them. They were on their own, had been for years. Separated from common believes, basically stretching the norms of society with every case they worked on.

So far they had been lucky enough to find their way out of nearly every frying pan, but for some reason the next turn would always lead them straight back into the fire. In this case probably hellfire, now that he thought about it. Not as if they didn't have enough problems on their plate already.

"Mornin'."

Sam's head shot up at Dean's sudden, although feeble sign of life. The older hunter was rubbing an uncoordinated hand over his sleep worn face as he slowly got up from his armchair. The popping sound of his joints proved his night not being any more comfortable than Sam's.

"Coffee?" he asked with a creaking voice, never even really looking at his younger brother.

"Not yet. Just got up myself."

"Hm."

Sam couldn't hide his grin when he watched his companion's sluggish movements.

"Maybe you should lay low on the booze for a while. You've been kind of overdoing it a bit in that department."

"Hm." Dean grumbled again as he started to fill the coffee machine.

Great. Barely past dawn and his brother was already in a crappy mood. Sam's hopes of clearing the air between them were fading fast. The fact that he didn't know what he actually wanted to say didn't help either.

* * *

They had silenced their way through most of the day, when Sam thought his nerves were going to burst at the seams. He couldn't do this any longer.

"This is stupid." he finally caved in to his impatience.

Dean barely looked up from the knife he was cleaning.

"What is?"

"Us. The way we've been acting around each other." the young man went on as he put down the book he had not so much read as stared at.

"Hm."

Silence. It was getting a thing for them.

"Are you even listening to me?"

With a sigh the older hunter put down the knife and met his brother's intent eyes.

"I'm listening."

"Look, I know it's hard for you to talk about stuff like this, but..."

"It's not hard." Dean stated, throwing Sam off course with the conviction in his voice.

"I simply don't want to."

He held the younger man's unbelieving gaze for another second before he carried on cleaning the weapons.

Even better than Sam had thought. His brother didn't only get up the wrong side of bed, or more precisely chair, but he also had his guard up to his hairline.

"Dean, drop the act."

When he got no reaction whatsoever he simply continued.

"We've got problems, man. You barely even look at me, you won't talk to me...how the hell are we supposed to work together if we don't..."

Dean's head snapped up, interrupting the young man before he could finish his sentence.  
"We'll figure something out, alright? For now, can't you just stop dissecting everything?"

Sam got up from his chair when his temper flared up.  
"You know, maybe I would, but this isn't exactly the first time it happened!"

"Yeah, well, it's gonna stop."

"When? Now? Or the next time you kiss me?"

The older hunter was on his feet now, too. He hated to be the shorter one of the two, but over the years he had learned to make up for it by simply staring his brother down.  
"Wow, wow, wow! Call me old fashioned here, but for all I know it takes two for something like that! And you weren't exactly Mr. prudish yourself, if I remember correctly!"

They were getting louder and louder, nearly screaming in each others faces.

"I never said I was!"

"Sure as hell didn't sound like it!"

"What? No, listen! I just think we should talk about..."

"Forget it. Not gonna happen. Not now, not ever!"

"Dean..."

"Drop it, Sam, or I swear I'll start throwing punches!"

Glaring at each other, the younger hunter realized that his brother wasn't kidding with his threat. Before he could think of a way too cool down the situation Dean broke their staring contest and grabbed his jacket.

"Where are you going?" Sam asked in a defeated tone.

"Out."

"So that's it? You just walk off, as usual?"

Dean froze, back turned towards his brother, his shoulders shaking with rage. A few seconds ticked by before he answered, teeth grinding together.

"See who's talking."

Sam's jaw tensed as the words hit him. Not even one of the older hunter's punches in his gut could have hurt more. This was one of the things he would never be forgiven for, he knew that. Still, it hurt when Dean threw it back in his face.

"Your unbelievable, you know that?" he whispered, fighting back the emotions welling up inside.

Dean's shoulders tensed even more, when he heard the pain in his brother's voice. His knuckles went white around the doorknob.

"Well, guess I am."

With that he ripped the door open and slammed it shut behind him.

_'Well, that went somewhat better than expected.'_ Sam thought sarcastically as his eyes threatened to burn a hole into the door. At least Dean hadn't punched him.

Yet.

* * *

The older hunter stomped down the stairs into the freshly fallen snow. His nails dug into his hands as he buried his fists in his pockets. Rage making his vision blurry.

Suddenly his foot hit something hard and he nearly would have fallen if it hadn't been for his well trained reflexes. Bending over he retrieved the object and froze when he realized that it was the mug from the night before.  
His eyes grew wide when he felt the memories close up his throat.  
With a half suppressed scream he tossed the cup into the nearby trees, trying to get rid of any kind of memento of his most recent failure.

For the first time in his life he was somewhat relieved that his parents were out of the picture. He couldn't even imagine the fit his father would have thrown, had he ever found out about this. The same crushing disappointment in his eyes, he always had shown him when he had failed to do his job. Protect his little brother. Only this time from himself.

Dean was trudging along the narrow road that had let them to the cabin in the first place.

_'Stupid, stupid idiot!'_

Angry with himself he started kicking anything that lay in his way. His face was stinging from the cold air, but he welcomed the sensation.

Why hadn't he listened to his instincts? Right from the start he had known that going here was a mistake. He already had been at the verge of slipping, of giving in to these new feelings inside of him. They were different from anything he had ever felt.

Not even with Cassie.

It wasn't a secret that he liked to hook up with someone every now and then. He was an attractive guy and chicks loved the whole danger vibe. However since his father's death things had changed. What used to be fun suddenly felt shallow and meaningless.

Of course it was easy for him to mask that dark, empty pit in his chest. To most people he looked the same, maybe a little rougher around the edges, but otherwise fine. He still felt hungry eyes following him whenever he entered a bar, measuring their chances to get with him. These days though he just didn't have it in him to smile back, to even acknowledge their presence. He needed all his strength to keep up his facade, to not fall apart in front of Sammy. The guy wore his heart on his tongue, as usual, scratching at the wall Dean had build around himself.

For the first time in his life he felt as if Sam was the one that led the way. The one that protected instead of needing protection, turning Dean's world upside down with this loss of control. The first year they had been back on the road together their roles had been clear.  
Dean was the more experienced hunter. He had seen their father last so it was only natural for him to take the lead. Sam needed all the support his brother could give, after his girlfriend had been killed. Furthermore he had been out of the job for quite a while and needed to find his way back to the top of his game.

Big brother, little brother. Easy as breathing.

After their father's death though things got more complicated. They were both playing wounded, burdened with grief and drowning in the responsibility their dad had left them with. The borders of protector and protected were getting blurrier with every day that went by, making them equals. Dean knew that whenever he fell, Sam would be there to catch him. Never before had he felt so close to someone, not even his father.

Only thinking about losing Sam made it impossible to breathe, to function. He needed his brother more than he ever needed anyone before. Though right now all he seemed to be doing was pushing him away from him as far as possible. Scared of what was happening between them, afraid of getting close. He hated himself for doing this. The truth was that it felt good to be near his brother. When they had kissed the night before it seemed, as if for the first time in a long time the pit in his chest closed up, even if only for a minute. Their lives were so screwed up, maybe this turn of events had been unavoidable? Maybe they had been heading towards this for years without noticing it? All he knew was that it was part of them now. Ripping it out would have been like pretending monsters didn't exist. Impossible.

Dean stopped in his tracks, as the realisation hit him. He couldn't run from this. Not without risking to lose the one person he had left in this world. Not without losing part of himself.

His parents were gone, so was his chance to ever live a normal life. To fit in. No way in hell he would run from the only thing he had left. The one person that really knew him, understood him and still wanted to stand by him.

Making a decision Dean turned around.

* * *

Unable to calm himself the younger hunter was pacing the small cabin like a caged animal. Dean had been gone for nearly thirty minutes and Sam was still fuming.

Why did his brother have to bury all this crap within him? The young man was just as freaked out by the situation, but at least he had the balls to admit it.

Behind him the door opened quietly as the older hunter stepped back into the room.

"Sam?" he asked carefully, immediately picking up on the tension that saturated the air. Not getting any reaction he tried again, a little louder this time.

"Sam."

"What?" the younger man snapped back, face still turned away from his brother. He tried to busy himself with the coffee machine but didn't really pay attention to what he was doing.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" God he hated being on the spot like this. He would have faced a werewolf, armed with nothing but a silver pen anytime instead of doing this.

Sam was radiating anger in waves as he mocked:  
"Now you want to talk? Well, that's great."

The older man tried to ignore it and simply kept going.  
"I've been thinking and..."

"You know what, Dean? Screw you!" his brother burst out as he spun around, eyes sparkling as his temper spilled out of him.

"What?"

"You can't just waltz in here, pretending as if none of this ever happened. Because face it, it did happen! So deal with it!" he shouted, turning back to the kitchen counter.

"Would you...Would you just listen to me for a second?" Dean demanded just as loud, grabbing his brother by the arm and forcing him to face him again. Sam was about to shake off his grip, but froze when he noticed the sincerity in the other man's eyes. All his anger fell off of him, replaced with surprise by seeing his brother so vulnerable.

"I know I've been an ass and I'm sorry, ok? I am." Dean had to take a deep breath before he could continue. He really wasn't good at these things.

"Lately it just feels as if everything is spinning out of control and I...I don't want to fight anymore."

The younger hunter could just stare, unable to make a sound. He hadn't expected this kind of a reaction.

"Sam, we are all that is left. I have no idea what it is that we are doing here, and it scares the crap out of me. But you were right. I have to stop running every time things get out of hand."

"What are you saying?" The astonished answer was barely above a whisper.

"I'm saying that I'm gonna follow your lead on this one. I don't know what's right or wrong here anymore and you are old enough to make decisions for yourself. So I'm just gonna go with whatever you decide."

To call Sam's reaction dumbfounded would have been the understatement of the year. Never in his entire life had his brother officially given him the permission to take the lead. Especially when it was about something so important and personal. He felt all of his defenses crumble by the sheer trust that filled Dean's words. It was so unlike him to give up any kind of control. Before he could stop himself he whispered:

"Christo."

Dean simply raised an eyebrow at him, biting back the grin that was threatening to break through.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence, bitch."

Warmth spread through him, all thoughts of their eralier fight forgotten. The younger man felt his own body relax, when he realised that they could get through this. Together.

"Anytime, jerk."

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tbc

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Dean FINALLY made a step in the right direction. Jesus Christ, that boy is exhausting.

Nearly done with the cabin, then we'll move on to 'Houses of the Holy'!

Love you guys!


	21. 21 Unaware awareness

Warnings: Mild Wincest.

Author's Note: Last night I got bored and the words just didn't seem to flow so I got creative otherwise.  
I came up with the** FIRST OFFICIAL BANNER **for this story! You can check it out through a link just underneath the avatar on my profile page!

Further Notice: Sorry for being such a pain in the ass with the little note last time. Had a bad day, please forgive me. And thanks so much to the sweet people that actually came through and responded!

Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.

Playlist: Conductor - We Were Promised Jetpacks

Blue day - Darker my Love

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 21: Unaware awareness**

Sam should have been happy. Elated even.

After nearly 24 years his brother had agreed, no, offered for him to take the wheel. Well, not quite literally, since Sam was rather certain he still would have to ride shotgun in the Impala, but the good intention was what mattered.  
Dean was obviously pleased with the way he had handled things. Right now the older hunter was occupying the double bed, reading some random magazine he had found in the trunk while steadily stuffing hot chips into his mouth. Sam cringed when he noticed, not for the first time, that barely half of the greasy things ended up where they belonged.

Wiping the sweat off his forehead Sam turned his attention back to the yellowed book in front of him.  
Since it was already getting dark outside they had fired up the stove, just like the night before. Only this time, Dean apparently had tried to establish a new record of how many logs could fit at once, successfully turning the cabin into a dry and stifling sauna.

Yes, his older brother really was a joy to be around.

Pushing the thought away the young man tried to focus on his research, but the letters were blurring into a big mushy blob, like before. He just couldn't get his mind off his brother's words from earlier. More precisely his own reaction to them after the first wave of pride had faded.

He was in charge when it came to...well...things. What did that even mean? 'In charge.' Not like there was actually something going on on a regular basis to take charge of. And even if, what was he supposed to do about it?

Somehow he couldn't help but wonder whether this was simply a well hidden ploy of his brother to slowly but surely drive him insane. Because while Dean was leaning back lazily, his own head was swimming. Ever since his promotion, or whatever it was, the development between them had become much more real to him. What used to be a twisted curiosity that caused trouble and awkwardness whenever it occured had suddenly become an omnipresent problem.

The young hunter found himself confronted with questions he didn't want to ask. Of course he had thought about their kisses before. Liplocking with your brother wasn't something you forgot overnight. Especially when you had to face the aftermath the next day, which never had turned out to be a pretty sight for them. He had been so caught up in finding excuses or ways to calm down the fallout afterwards that he never really had let himself think about the 'why'. Until now.

Sam's mind kept running through the last months over and over again, desperatley searching for a mistake in his chain of thought. There had to be another explanation. Something. Anything! But no matter from which angle he looked at it, he always ended up with the same conclusion.

They were brothers. Brothers that cared and looked out for each other, that fought side by side, that bantered and pranked whenever they had the chance, that stood through things most people couldn't even imagine...  
...and that were attracted to one another.

Shit.

Now he remembered why he wasn't happy. Being in charge sucked.

* * *

Dean was happy.  
A little warm maybe, but content.

Even though he would never say this to Sam's face, the guy had been right. Talking did help. Sometimes at least.  
He knew they still hadn't resolved anything, hadn't exactly talked the way his brother would have liked. Still. Things were looking up.

The pressure was gone, had fallen off of him the second his proclamation had been voiced and accepted. All he had to do now was to lean back and let things play out the way they were supposed to. The two of them had spend ages on the road together without any of this weird crap happening, supernatural weird crap excluded, they could do it again. As long as they stopped fighting it on their own and joined forces, they would be back on track in no time.

Licking his greasy finger he flipped to the next page in his magazine, eyes immediately jumping to the oversized 'El Sol' beer advertisement. Maybe this mag wasn't so bad after all.

The older hunter raised his head, praying for Sam to be somewhere near to fridge so he wouldn't have to get up himself. All of his hopes were crushed though, when he found him at the table, brooding extensively over one of Bobby's ancient books.

Oh, he so didn't like that look. Whenever Sam pulled his brows together like this he either had caught himself making a mistake or was thinking about something Dean would later regret having asked about.

The hunter quickly contemplated his options until he finally got up as quietly as possible and tiptoed his way to the refrigerator. Opening the door carefully he had to suppress a gasp as the cold air from within the machine blew across his face. It was definitely too warm in the cabin. Damned stove. Damned logs. Tempted to crawl in with the beer, Dean grabbed two bottles which fogged up within seconds. As soon as the fridge was closed, the air seemed to thicken around him. He could practically feel the sweat before his pores even knew what hit them.

_'Ok, that's it.'_

Setting his drinks aside he quickly stripped out of his jeans and shirt, discarding them on the armchair that still stood in the kitchen.  
Relieved the hunter grabbed the cold drinks and headed back.

Sam had somewhat calmed down from his first shock at his realization. They could deal with this. Just give it a little time and things would get back to normal. As long as they...  
Suddenly something moved next to him, making him jump in surprise.

"Wow." Dean exclaimed as he raised his arms as a sign of capitulation.

The younger hunter looked up at him in annoyance as he willed his pulse to slow down.

"You scared the crap out of me, man."

The intruder just chuckled as he placed a beer on the table.  
"Kind of noticed."

Only then Sam took in his brother's appearance. He had stripped down to his blue boxers and a white undershirt that clung to every line of his chest. Had his brother bulked up over the last few weeks? He couldn't remember him having...

_'Oh my god.'_

Heat rose up in his cheeks when he realized what he was doing. He quickly looked back down at his book, praying to god Dean hadn't noticed his staring.

_'Ok, this is new. And so not good.'_

He had seen Dean a million times like this, even in less. Why should this time be any different? Maybe he had spent too much time thinking about the topic. Yes, that was it. Let alone the stupid fire that crackled in the background. Clear signs of a heat stroke.

_'Ok Sam, breathe. Just breathe.'_

A hand appeared in his line of vision, pulling his attention back into the presence.

"You in there?" Dean asked concerned, once his brother responded to him.

"Dude, you don't look so good. Maybe you should move further away from the fire."

Sam swallowed heavily, his throat dry as the desert. He tried desperately to keep his focus on his brother's face but his eyes kept drifting south to those abs, standing out against the fabric.

"I...back in a minute." he burst out when he pushed past the older man and vanished into the bathroom.

Dean gazed after him in wonder, beer frozen in his hand.

"O...K?"

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tbc

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Ok, maybe the cabin is gonna take up longer than I thougt, but the boys seem to like it there.

Already getting annoying? Would you prefer them to get back on the road as soon as possible?


	22. 22 Behind closed doors

Warnings: Wincest.

Author's Note:** Great...just great. Fanfiction-dot-net doesn't update on Hits and Visitors on the stories since yesterday...*glare* My favourite daytime activity of watching that little bar grow is gone...So I got no way of telling how many of you are reading this new chapter, or if anyone is reading it at all...*sniff***

Disclaimer: Wish-list for Christmas: 2 rough looking guys, travelling around in a muscle car that can be picked up at the Canadian border.

Playlist: Houses - Great Northern

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 22: Behind closed doors **

Sam was standing there, arms outstretched, pushing against the closed bathroom door, as if to keep out any of the thoughts that had found their way into his mind. He knew it was a pathetic gesture, useless and too late. Because he could still feel them, pulling on his sanity, following him, no matter where he hid.

_'Stop it, damned it!'_

He begged as he leaned his forehead against the rough wood. His breathing was laboured, heart pounding heavily in his chest.

This was wrong. Just plain wrong.

He couldn't go back out there. Even if he somehow managed to reign in his body's reaction for now, there was no way of telling how long his control would last. Not with Dean looking like this.

Sam had to bite back a groan when the pictures started to rise up again. Tanned skin, covered with a thin layer of sweat, glistening in the warm light of the fire. The familiar pendant sitting on those pecs, waiting to be touched. Shadows dancing to the rhythm of the flames, embracing the firm muscles, enhancing them even more. The look of the waistband hanging low on these hipbones...

_'Damn it!'_

Turning his back towards the door, the young man slid down into a sitting position, legs pulled up protectively, hands digging into his temples, tearing on his hair roughly until it hurt.

How the hell do you explain to your brother that he is a damned tease? That he really needs to put on some clothes if he knows what's good for him? How do you even explain it to yourself?

A humourless chuckle erupted from his throat. Dean always used to give him crap about thinking too much with his upstairs brain. Considering he had realized his attraction for his brother just minutes ago, his downstairs brain appeared to maintain in a pretty well-working liaison with his head.

He could really use a cold shower right now...

A soft knock sounded out, bringing his thoughts to a sudden stop.

"Hey, did you fall asleep in there?" Dean asked in a mocking tone, but the younger hunter could easily discern the concern in his words.

Pulling in much needed air, when he realized that he also had stopped breathing, he tried to steady his voice before answering.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Sam could practically feel his brother's doubtful eyes burn holes into his back during the silence that followed. Closing his eyes he took another controlled breath, letting it go slowly.

"I'm out in a minute, alright?" he finally managed to say, voice shakier than he would have liked.

"Ok." was the plain answer, followed by slowly fading steps.

Panic rose up in his chest. He didn't feel in any condition to face Dean within the next hour, let alone in a couple of minutes. Pushing himself into a standing position Sam walked over to the sink. He leaned heavily on the basin as he splashed some cold water into his heated face.

There had to be a way out of this mess. Some loophole he hadn't thought of yet. Rubbing his free hand over his wet face he looked down on himself.

He so couldn't go out there. Not without Dean realising what was up...literally.  
Biting his lip he contemplated his options. Staying in the bathroom was out. There was no lock on the door and his brother would very likely kick it down anyway if he didn't come out within the next couple of minutes.  
However staying in this choking hell of sauna, just feet away from Dean was out of question, too.  
There was really only one thing left to do.

* * *

The older hunter stared gloomily at the closed bathroom door. His brother could tell him ten more times that he was fine, Dean wasn't buying it. Sure, Sam had his five minutes of weirdness nearly on a daily basis, but this was extreme, even for him. Something was definitely going on here.  
He hated to be left out of the loop, especially when it concerned his favourite geek. He even had struggled his way through the Latin text the old volume was currently flipped open on to figure out what might have upset his brother so much. Nothing apart from well known facts about Skinwalkers and Shapeshifters had shown up. What the hell was going on here?

Sometimes it still amazed him how much the guy could affect his own mood. One moment everything seemed fine and relaxed and the next thing he knew it all went to hell.

Maybe...no. Sam hadn't had a vision for quite some time now and he knew better than not to tell him about them. But what else was there?

Scratching the back of his neck Dean sat back down on the bed, the beer in his hand long forgotten. He could just kick in the door and find out for himself...Sam would be pissed, but he could deal with that was really nothing else left to do and the guy had been in their for nearly fifteen minutes.

He was just about to set his plan into motion when suddenly the door opened. Sam's flushed face emerged, staring back at him with clouded eyes. Dean could only gaze back, startled for a second when he noticed the unfamiliar expression on the young man's features.

In a heartbeat the moment was gone and Sam hurried past him towards the front door.

"Hey, what...Sam!" Dean called out, rushing after him.  
The young man had already grabbed his jacket when he reached him, capturing his elbow in a death-grip.

"What the hell is going on with you?" Dean shouted with wide eyes as he spun his brother around to face him. Sam's jaw was tense, his glance cast down to his feet.

"It's nothing, alright? I just have to get some air, that's all."

"Sure doesn't look like nothing."

The younger hunter struggled against his hold, trying to break free, but Dean wouldn't have it. "Hey, look at me!"

"Let go of me!" Sam demanded, panic rising up in him when he realized he was caught. He could literally smell the adrenaline pour off his brother, doing things to his body that made him blush even further. He had to get out of here for both of their sake.

Dean could feel his hand slipping, but there was no way in hell he would just let his brother walk out that door. In a flash he twisted his arm around in a wristlock, pushing him up against the closed door. Sam grunted in pain, all air being squeezed out of his lungs as his chest was jammed against the wood.

"You're gonna talk, you hear me?" the older man ordered with a voice not far from a growl.

Sam was shaking with pent up rage, heart thumping like a jackhammer, heat shooting through every fibre of his stuck body.  
His voice however was deadly calm when he answered.

"Dean, let go of me. Now."

The retorted chuckle vibrated through his limbs due to their close proximity.  
"Or what?" his captors warm breath requested, fanning out across the side of his neck.

"Or..."  
Using all the strength he could muster, Sam pushed himself off the door, causing Dean to stumble back. Lightning fast he spun around, using his still trapped arm as a lever to take his brother with him. Before the older man had time to react his own back was slammed into the door, the arm he'd been holding onto pressed merciless against his chest, detaining him in place.  
"...this!"

Panting with adrenaline and exertion the two men stared at each other. Sam didn't use his height advantage very often, but right now he was towering over his brother like an unmovable fortification wall.  
Buffled the older hunter gazed up into those anger-filled hazel eyes, the fire behind them taking his breath away. Sammy was usually good at concealing the temper that he knew brewed just below his skin, but whenever it broke through he turned into a force of nature.  
"Alright, Van Damme, you've made your point. Would you let go of me now?" he squeezed out, masking that he was in fact a little intimidated by this sudden forcefulness.

"No." Sam shot back, his body rigid. Fear was freezing him in place, fear of the things he felt himself wanting to do. Swallowing had become difficult as soon as he noticed how close he was to his brother's face.

Dean's eyebrows pulled together in confusion, when he picked up on the heat radiating off his opponent's body. The lack off space between them unsettled him, making his skin tingle dangerously.  
"What the hell has gotten into you?" he breathed out, more to take his mind off of the sensation than anything else.

As if someone had flipped a switch Sam's expression immediately shifted from anger into something softer, something more familiar. Pain.  
With a heavy sigh his hold started to loosen. Dean's body relaxed noticeably while he tried to make sense of the abrupt change in his brother. The young man's head was lowered, but he still could make out the small movement when he whispered something too quiet to hear.

"What?" he inquired, his tone taking on a gentleness he allowed onnly his brother to see.

"You have, you damned idiot..." Sam repeated a little louder this time.

Dean looked at him quizzically for another couple of seconds until finally a light went on inside of his head. The way Sam had ogled him before he bolted for the bathroom, the blush on his face, the need to get out of the cabin topped off with Dean's current state of dress.

"Oh." was the only thing he managed to reply.

Shaking his head in embarrassment Sam straightened up, finally letting go of his brother. He took a couple of steps back as his hand went up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"I...I'm sorry, Dean. I..." lost for words he turned around and slumped into one of the chairs over by the window. All anger and force was drained from his body now that he laid his cards on the table.

The older hunter was still leaning against the door, eyes staring off into thin air while his brain tried to work it's way through this newest revelation.

The problem with revelations is that people expect you to react to them in a certain way. Either with shock, joy, surprise or any other kind of strong emotion. Dean knew that Sam was expecting something from him, too. Probably anger and a beating judging by the look on his face. For some reason though no strong emotion was emerging. No rage, no rejection, not even real surprise. He was just...ok with it.  
His eyes wandered over to his brother who obviously wasn't sharing his point of view. Sometimes the guy really was a glas half empty. With a sigh the hunter did the only thing he could think of to help the young man out of his misery.

"I'll make you a deal." he said as he walked over to the empty chair facing his moping brother.  
Sam looked up at him halfheartedly, forehead scrunched up in question. Bangs were falling into his eyes, but he didn't even seem to notice.

"Whenever one of us is gets the urge to pledge a fraternity we face the problem headfirst. As a team. No more stupid games, no more hiding in bathrooms, alright?"

The younger hunter's shoulders straightened a little bit when he took in the deeper meaning of the words. His brother wasn't angry with him. Back in the bathroom Sam had been so scared that Dean would regard him as a freak if he ever found out what was going on inside of his head. Maybe even drop him at the nearest gas station and never look back. Relief flooded through him now that he realized how wrong he had been. Just like so many times before his big brother had his back, no matter what.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he answered:  
"I thought I was in charge?"

A mocking snort came as a reply, not missing a single beat. "Yeah, you obviously suck at it, so I'm taking over again."

Sam looked down at his folded hands. Sometimes he wondered how he deserved a brother like Dean. Of course he was a pain in the ass, most of the time, but in the times between he was simply awesome. Raising his head he looked grateful at the familiar face.

"Dean? Thanks. Thanks for not freaking out on me."

"Well, you kind of did enough of that for the both of us. And since I already knew that I am smoking hot..." he grinned at the playful glare Sam was throwing his way.

Scrubbing a hand over his tired face Dean felt all the leftover tension fall off of him. Maybe he should be feeling weird about this, probably even disgusted. No matter how often he took the inward turn though, there simply was no trace of either. This was Sammy after all. The angle from which Dean would regard him as weird still had to be discovered. Well, apart from the whole psychic thing, at least. Head propped up on his hand he turned his attention back to the current situation.

"So, do I have to get out the tissues or are we done sweating oestrogen?"

The younger man shook his mop of brown air with an easy smile.

"Nah, I think we're good."

"Good, because this was getting awkward." Dean concluded as he got up and retrieved his beer.

"And we are so getting out of this cabin tomorrow. This place has some serious mojo-issues." he grumbled more to himself than Sam.

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tbc

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Oh, i love it when they fight. But only if there is brotherfluff afterwards. So yeah.

The cabin is history from now on. I'm glad Dean shared my growing tiredness with it.

What do you think of the newest development between our two chuckleheads? Let me know!


	23. 23 Closing the distance

Warnings: Wincest.

Author's Note:** Guys, I am so sorry** that you had to wait this long. Christmas + Healthproblems + Writersblock made it possible. Sorry sorry sorry. Thanks for your sweet reviews (*huggs* to TwincheserAngel ^^)! **  
**

Disclaimer: None of them are mine...Not even a little...

Playlist: Ramblin' man - Allman Brother Band (Please listen to it while reading the first scene until Sam appears. Believe me, it helps ^^)  
Aaron - Paul Kalkbrenner

So here you have it.

Reviews are highly desired ^^

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**Chapter 23: Closing the distance**

Dean's fingers were drumming along with 'Rambling man' while he waited for his brother to pay for their fuel. The older hunter had offered to come along for company when he noticed the long line of people at the cash register, but Sam had insisted for him to stay out of sight due to their _'close'_ proximity to Milwaukee.

_'Yeah right. And he calls me overly cautious when it comes to him.'_

Bobby had told them about two religious murders over in Rhode Island, that seemed to be their kind of problem and since both Winchesters had been itching to get back on the road they had been more than willing to look into it right away. It was true that their route had taken them closer to the town of their last case, than Dean would have liked, but there had really been no other option. Even without the detour they still had a good fourteen hour drive ahead of them and even he needed sleep at some point. Since their new credit cards were waiting for them in a post office near their destination they had hardly enough cash to pay for gas, let alone a motel room. Therefore a detour would mean a rerun of the uncomfortable night in the car, which wasn't going to happen anytime soon, as far as Dean was concerned. Hence no detour.

The roads were busy, due to the surprisingly sunny day which served Dean just fine. It was still early and the hunter wasn't in any hurry. In fact he had missed the feeling of driving his baby along the back-roads with a good tune and his brother riding shotgun. Judging by the few complaints Sam had given him over the past couple of hours the feeling seemed to be mutual. Not that he would have cared if it wasn't, but it certainly helped.

His head rested halfway out of the open window, simply enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin when he heard the clicking sound of heels. Pushing his shades back into position he straightened up, catching a nice view of two girls heading towards the little shop in the petrol station. As soon as the shorter one looked his way he gave her a lopsided grin and tipped his non-existing hat. Her steps faltered for a second while a rosy blush spread over her petite features. Quickly averting her eyes she hurried after her friend, sneaking a peek at him every few steps.

_'Yep, still got it.' _Dean thought with a light chuckle as the girls entered the building.

Crossing his hands behind his head he leaned back and was just about to settle for a short nap, when suddenly his phone started buzzing. Opening his eyes with a grunt he reached across the dashboard, only to to see his brother's name on the small screen.  
Good-humored Dean pressed the connect button and immediately started talking:

"Dude, did you see the two chicks that just came in? I think the little one has a thing for me. What do you say, we set you up with the dark haired one and..."

"What? No, I mean..." Sam's surprised voice interrupted, obviously thrown by his brother's unexpected suggestion.  
"Would you get your mind out of the gutter for a minute? We got incoming on 4 o'clock, your position."

Following his siblings directions Dean strained his neck to see a police car pull into a parking lot not far from where he was sitting.

"Oh, Sammy. All work and no play." he mocked in a playful tone. Nonetheless he had already turned off the music and swiftly pushed his car door open.

"Shut up and get your ass moving. I'll meet you out back as soon as I'm done in here." came the younger man's hushed voice through the speaker. "Already on it." Dean answered as he locked his door.

Sadly, keeping their eyes out for hiding spots whenever they were in a public place had become a necessity after the incident in Milwaukee and so he knew exactly where to go. Ducking his head he took a few strides towards the vending machines before he swiftly changed course and sneaked past the 'out-of-order' sign at the toilettes. With a quick sidestep he took cover behind the chest high wall of partly perforated wood panels they had spotted earlier upon their arrival at the station. Through the holes Dean could overlook most of the parking area, even though his eyes kept drifting back protectively to the Impala as he waited.

A couple of minutes passed before the sound of steps arose not far behind him. Tensing up the hunter listened carefully until he recognized the familiar pattern he could have picked out of a crowd. Not much later Sam appeared next to him slightly out of breath.

"Here." the young man said absentmindedly while handing over the chocolate bar his brother had asked for earlier.

"Thanks. Anything new about Mahony and Tackleberry over there?" Dean asked as he stored the candy for later and sat down.

"Don't think they spotted us. Just wanted a coffee refill and started chatting with the cashier before I slipped out. I think we're good."

In the silence that settled over them Sam tried to mirror his siblings position, but his long legs made it almost impossible to get comfortable in the tight spot. Settling for an awkward crouch he kept his eyes trailed on the parking lot.

Only two days ago the position they were currently in would have been an unwritten no-go. Sam's right knee was slightly grazing his brother's bent leg, while his upper body filled half of his field of vision. However none of them consciously noticed their close proximity, instead it came natural, as if it had always been like this.

They had never actually avoided physical contact, but they were Winchesters. Two boys raised into a hard life by an Ex Marine. A certain distance to everything and everyone around had been right from the start part of their training. How else were you supposed to see a punch coming before it hit you?  
But ever since their agreement at the cabin the invisible gap between them had started to shrink. Almost like someone had overnight reassessed their measure of personal space without them even realizing it. The knowledge that the other one would speak up, whenever something felt to intimate had enabled an unknown easiness between the two. Suddenly the usual distance while walking next to each other seemed strangely far and a lingering touch when things were handed over gave reassurance. Though, of course neither one of two would ever admit to it out loud.

"Man, I hate this. Sitting here like ducks." Dean finally mumbled, causing a humorless snort from the man next to him.

"You think I don't?"

"Yeah, but you are not the one who's face is being broadcasted all over the damned country. I'm telling you, if those guys come anywhere near my car..."

"Calm down, alright? For all we know they never actually got our plates. As long as you stay out of sight we should be fine." Sam answered a little tense. His legs were starting to fall asleep due to his awkward stance while Dean was just getting started with his complaints.

"Awesome. Just...frigging great. I can't even go to a bar without risking being recognized, let alone...hmpf!" Before he knew what was happening Sam's hand had shot out and covered his mouth, detaining him from making another sound. Confused he threw his sibling an annoyed glare, nearly missing his wordless indication to be quiet. Only then did he notice the advancing steps of heavy boots accompanied by the distinctive sounds of a police walkie-talkie. Holding his breath he looked up at his brother's tight face which hovered just inches away. The muscles in Sam's pronounced jaw were strained, flexing every now and then while his focus followed the officer nearby. Out of reflex Dean reached for the wrist of the hand restraining him. Careful not to make a noise he pulled it off his mouth, that had started to tingle under the sensation of Sam's rough skin, but didn't let go of it. His pulse was counting the seconds until he finally felt his sibling relax.

"Is he gone?" Dean whispered when he felt the adrenaline in his veins subside.

"Yeah. He is heading back to his car." Sam breathed, closing his eyes as his head dipped in relief. However, when he reopened them with an elated grin his heart nearly stopped.

Too caught up in the situation he hadn't even realized how close his last movement had brought them. Their faces were barely an inch apart and he could feel Dean's warm breath on his face. All of a sudden his wrist felt unbearably hot in his sibling's hand while his breathing started to turn shallow.

_'Oh, not again.' _was about all coherent thinking his mind was able to accomplish by then. It still came as a surprise just how fast his body was able to switch from zero to one hundred when it came to the man before him.

Dean meanwhile was completely frozen into place as he stared into his brother's wide eyes. He became all too aware of the sturdy wood panels pushing against his back, leaving him no way to retreat. His father's first rule of sparring, never to let yourself be cornered, kept running through his fuzzy brain, but he wasn't even sure anymore why it had seemed important at the time. Without thinking he tightened his grip around his brother's wrist, accidentally pulling him closer in the process.

Sam's heart was beating embarrassing loud when he suddenly found himself only a whisper away from grazing Dean's lips with his own. Their mingling breath was intoxicating as it flooded his nerves in tingling sensations. He wanted to say something, to tell his brother he wasn't comfortable with this, but he knew it would have been a lie. The simple fact, that the only thing keeping him upright was his left hand, perched against the wooden panel next to the other hunter's head was proof enough of that. He knew he should stop. Pull back like they had agreed on two nights ago, but his mind was drowning in the realisation that Dean didn't seem to want him to stop. Instead his green eyes were glued to his own, dissolving Sam's surroundings into nothingness. And just like that he felt his last bit of resistance crumble like it never even existed. In the same breath his lips had already found Dean's, melting against them like they were meant for it.  
Dean's world stopped and started tumbling all at once when the air between them ceased to exist. His free hand grasped for the other man's nape in desperate need of an anchor to ground himself. Sam's lips were as soft as he remembered, building an exciting contrast to the hard wall he was pinned to. His fingers sneaked into his brother's unruly hair, ruffling it even further in the process. As he tipped his head to achieve a better angle he carefully opened his lips, both question and dare.  
Sam didn't hesitate to answer. Kissing Dean was like a drug, different to anything else he ever tasted, yet strangely familiar and addictive. His breath caught when their tongues met, just like it had these few times before. Some part of him knew it was wrong, but right now he simply couldn't care. Not when all his senses were drowning in pure and raw Dean. He forgot where they were, who they were and plainly was.

The only problem associated with this was the fact that he also forgot to keep his hand attached to the wall. Before he knew it he found himself tumbling over and landing unceremoniously next to his sibling.

For a moment the brother's stared at each other, shocked and dumbfounded, hearts still beating in their throats. The quiet air was filled with tension, ready to soak them in guilt and regret, like it had happened so many times before. When suddenly, without any kind of warning Dean burst into broad laughter. He himself didn't really understand why, but something about this entire situation was just too bizarre and comical to keep a straight face. Sam could only stare at him, still too ruffled by the recent events to react.

"You alright?" the older hunter gasped in between laughs, his eyes watery from the effort to rail his guffaw in.

"Yeah. I think." Sam grunted embarrassed as he sat up awkwardly.

"Sorry for making you feel uncomfortable." Dean mocked when he remembered their talk from the cabin. His cackle had subsided to light chuckling, giving him a chance to pull in some much needed gasps of air. Sniffling a couple of times he wiped away the moisture under his eyes. Sam simply looked daggers at him, but failed to stifle the little smirk that was forming on his lips.

"You are an idiot, you know that?" the young hunter exclaimed in feigned anger, while he desperately fought against the contagious effect of the older man's laughter.

With a crooked grin Dean got up and dusted off his pants before he threw a scrutinizing look to where the police car had been parked.

"All clear. We'd better hit the road." he stated before lending his brother a helping hand.

In easy silence they crossed the parking area to their car, both oblivious to Dean's right hand resting comfortably on his brother's back.

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tbc

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So? Opinions? I came up with the idea for this scene when I noticed how comfortable the boys seem with touching each other or standing really near to each other in the next episode, Houses of the Holy. Hope you guys agree ^^

Have a good one and let me know what you think!


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